A  SYSTEM 


OF 


ELOCUTION, 

WITH 

SPECIAL    REFERENCE 

GESTURE, 

TO  THE  TREATMENT   OK 

STAMMERING, 

AND 

DEFECTIVE    ARTICULATION, 


iOMPRISING     NUMEROUS     DIAGRAMS,     A  N  D     E  N  G.R-A,  V  E  D 
FIGURES,     ILLUSTRATIVE     OF     THE     SU  ' 


^FI; 


BY  ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.D. 

PRINCIPAL    OF    THE    VOCAL    AND    POLYGLOTT    GYMNASIUM. 


Cnn  Elucution  be  taught  7    This  question  has  heretofore  been  Hsked  through  ignorance: 
it  shall  hereafter  he  asked,  only  through  folly. — Rush's  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Voice* 


TWELFTH      EDITION,     ENLARGED. 

PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED  BY   E.   H.   BUTLER  &  CO. 
1853. 


PA/4//! 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1845,  by 
ANDREW    COMSTOCK,    M.    D., 

In  the  office  of  the  clerk  of  the  district  court  of  the  United  State*  in  and 
for  the  eastern  district  of  Pennsylvania. 


STEREOTYPED   BY   J.   FAGAN. 


PRINTED   BY    C.    SHERMAN. 


THIS  work  is  a  system  of  Theoretical 
and  Practical  Elocution.  It  is  de- 
signed for  the  use  of  Schools  and  Colleges, 
as  well  as  for  the  instruction  of  private 
individuals  who  desire  to  improve  them- 
selves in  the  art  of  reading  and  speaking. 
The  arrangement  of  the  several  parts  of 
the  work  is  strictly  systematic:  each  is 
discussed  in  its  natural  order,  and  with  as 
much  brevity  as  consists  with  perspicuity. 
The  analysis  of  the  vocal  elements  of 
the  English  language,  and  the  minute  de- 
scription which  is  given  of  their  organic 
formation,  will  be  found  important,  not 
only  to  the  American  who  is  desirous  of 
accurate  knowledge  upon  this  subject,  but 
also  to  the  foreigner  who  is  learning  to 
speak  our  vernacular  tongue.  And  the 
engravings,  indicating  the  most  favourable 
postures  of  the  mouth  in  the  energetic 
utterance  of  the  elements,  will  be  found 
a  valuable  auxiliary  in  the  acquisition  of 
this  knowledge. 

(3) 


IV  PREFACE. 

In  ordinary  works  on  Elocution,  the  inflections  of  the 
voice  are  given,  but  not  the  changes  of  pitch,  which 
constitute  melody.  In  this  work,  however,  not  only  are 
the  inflections  and  the  melody  given,  but  also  those  tran- 
sitions in  pitch,  called  modulation,  or  a  change  of  key 
My  method  of  representing  the  melody  and  modula 
tions  of  the  speaking  voice,  is  original ;  and,  I  feel  con- 
fident, it  will  prove  of  singular  advantage  to  the  Stu- 
dent in  Elocution. 

The  part  on  gesture  is  extracted,  principally,  from 
Austin's  Chironomia,  a  work  which  is  extremely  rare, 
and  one  whose  great  size  and  expense  are  insuperable 
obstacles  to  its  general  introduction.  All,  however, 
that  is  particularly  valuable,  which  the  Chironomia  con- 
tains on  the  subject  of  gesture,  is  here  presented  to  the 
reader  in  the  compass  of  a  few  pages.  Austin's  system 
of  notation  of  gesture  is  of  great  practical  utility. 
This  will  appear  evident  to  the  reader  when  he  shall 
have  learned  that,  by  its  application,  all  the  gestures 
which  an  orator  makes,  in  the  delivery  of  a  discourse, 
may  be  accurately  recorded  for  his  own  practice  and 
improvement,  as  well  as  for  the  benefit  of  posterity. 

In  the  practical  part  of  this  work,  are  Exercises  in 
Articulation,  Pitch,  Force,  Time,  and  Gesture.  These 
are  important,  not  only  to  the  Student  in  Elocution,  but 
also  to  the  Stammerer.  In  training  the  muscles  of 
speech,  as  well  as  those  of  gesticulation,  I  begin  with 
exercises  of  the  most  energetic  kind;  because  these 
only  will  produce  the  desired  effect:  by  diligently  prac- 
tising energetic  exercises,  the  Student  soon  acquires  a 
strength  and  compass  of  voice,  a  distinctness  of  utter- 
ance, and  a  freedom  and  gracefulness  of  action,  which 


PREFACE. 

he  could  not  attain  by  practising  those  of  an  opposite 
character. 

The  Exercises  in  Reading  and  Declamation  have 
been  taken  from  some  of  the  best  ancient  and  modern 
authors ;  and  they  are  well  adapted  to  the  purposes  of 
the  Student  in  Elocution.  They  are  divided  into  para- 
graphs, and  subdivided  into  sections.  The  latter  divi- 
sion is  marked  by  vertical  bars.  In  concert  reading, 
as  soon  as  a  section  is  pronounced  by  the  teacher,  the 
members  of  the  class  should  repeat  it  together,  in  the 
proper  pitch  and  time,  and  with  the  requisite  degree  of 
force.  When  a  paragraph  shall  have  been  pronounced 
in  this  way,  it  should  be  read  singly  by  each  member 
of  the  class.  Sometimes  it  will  be  found  advantageous 
to  let  each  pupil,  in  turn,  give  out  a  piece,  and  the  other 
members  of  the  class  repeat  it  after  him ;  the  teacher, 
meanwhile,  making  the  necessary  corrections.  In  fine, 
the  exercise  of  reading  should  be  practised  in  a  variety 
of  ways  according  to  circumstances.  When  a  piece 
is  given  out  with  gesticulation,  the  members  of  the  class 
should  rise  simultaneously,  immediately  after  the  first 
section  is  pronounced,  and  repeat  the  words  and  ges- 
ture. As  the  organs  of  speech  require  much  training 
to  enable  them  to  perform  their  functions  properly,  the 
pupil  should  repeat  the  same  exercise  till  he  can  articu- 
late every  element,  and  give  to  each  syllable  the  pitch, 
force,  and  time  which  the  sentiment  demands. 

The  art  of  reading  and  speaking  is  not  inferior  in 
importance  to  any  branch  of  learning ;  yet  there  is  none 
more  generally  neglected.  While  many  of  the  merely 
ornamental  branches  are  cultivated  with  zealous  assi- 
duity, Elocution  is  allowed,  at  best,  but  a  feeble  sup- 
1* 


VI  PREFACE. 

port.  Among  the  numerous  colleges  with  which  our 
country  abounds,  there  is  not,  perhaps,  a  single  one 
endowed  with  a  professorship  of  Elocution !  And 
among  our  numerous  public  speakers,  how  small  a  num- 
ber can  deliver  a  discourse  without  having  half  the  body 
concealed  by  a  desk  or  table  !  The  orators  of  classic 
Greece  never  ensconced  themselves  behind  elevated 
desks,  nor  "  stood  upon  all  fours,"  as  some  of  our  public 
speakers  do  :*  they  \yere  masters  of  their  art.  Hence 
they  needed  no  screen  to  conceal  uncouth  attitudes  and 
awkward  gestures  from  the  scrutinizing  eye  of  criti- 
cism ;  nor  had  occasion  to  present  the  crown  of  the 
head,  instead  of  the  face,  to  the  audience,  to  hide  the 
blush  of  ignorance  :  they  exposed  the  whole  person  to 
the  audience  ;  they  stood  erect,  in  all  the  dignity  of  con- 
scious worth;  their  attitudes  were  fit  models  for  the 
statuary;  their  gestures  were  replete  with  grace  and 
expression ;  their  elocution  defied  criticism. 

Let  us  endeavour  to  restore  Elocution  to  its  former 
place  in  the  department  of  useful  instruction.  Nothing 
is  wanted  but  a  correct  medium,  laudable  ambition,  and 
common  industry,  to  enable  our  American  youth  to 
rival  those  ancient  orators  whose  eloquence,  it  is  said, 
"  shook  distant  thrones,  and  made  the  extremities  of  the 
earth  tremble." 

ANDREW  COMSTOCK. 

Philadelphia,  November  20,  1841. 

*  See  Figure  1,  page  70. 

NOTE.  —  The  Figures  which  illustrate  the  subject  of  this  work, 
were  drawn  and  engraved  by  Croome  and  Minot;  the  Diagrams 
were  engraved  by  Mumford. 


CONTENTS. 


ELOCUTION. 

Pag. 

Introduction 11 

Preliminary  Observations 14 

Elocution  .  15 


PART    I. 

VOCAL    GYMNASTICS. 

Vocal  Gymnastics 15 

Articulation 16 

Elements  of  the  English  Language 18 

Classification  of  the  Elements 19 

The  Vowels 21 

The  Sub-vowels 23 

The  Aspirates 25 

The  Postures  of  the  Mouth 27 

Defective  Articulation 30 

Lisping 32 

Stammering 33 

Pitch 38 

Keys  of  the  Speaking  Voice 46 

Inflections 47 

Melody 52 

Modulation 53 

Force 59 

Time 63 


PART    II. 

GESTURE. 

Gesture „» 69 

Postures  of  the  Body 69 

Postures  unfavourable  to  Vocal  Delivery 70 

(7) 


/ill  CONTENTS. 

Postures  favourable  to  Vocal  Delivery 71 

Demonstrating  on  the  Black-board 71 

Manner  of  Holding  the  Book 72 

Notation  of  Gesture 73 

Positions  of  the  Feet  and  Lower  Limbs 76 

Positions,  Motions,  and  Elevations  of  the  Arms 84 

Postures  and  Motions  of  the  Hands 93 

The  Head,  the  Eyes,  the  Shoulders,  and  the  Body 104 

The  Stroke  and  Time  of  Gesture 105 

The  Classification  of  Gesture 108 

The  Preparation,  Transition,  and  Accompaniment  of  Gesture.  113 
The  Frequency,  Moderation,  and  Intermission  of  Gesture. . . .  123 
The  Qualities  of  Gesture,  and  the  Gesture  suited  to  different 

modes  of  Public  Speaking 125 

Significant  Gestures 129 

Grace 131 

Synoptical  Arrangement  of  the  Notation  Letters 134 

Application  of  the  Notation  Letters 136 

Questions  to  be  answered  by  the  Pupil 159 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

PART    I. 

EXERCISES  IN  ARTICULATION,  PITCH,  FORCE,  TIME, 
AND  GESTURE. 

Exercises  in  Articulation,  Pitch,  Force,  Time,  and  Gesture  . .  167 

Table  of  the  Elements  of  the  English  Language 167 

Emphasis  Melodies 172 

Interrogative  Sentences 174 

Force 176 

Modulation 176 

Tremour 177 

Time  and  Gesture 178 

Method  of  Beating  Time  with  the  Dumb-Bells 178 

Syllable  Rhythm 179 

Poetry  Rhythm 179 

First  Period  of  Gesture 182 

Second  Period  of  Gesture 183 

Pronunciation 184 

Declamation 184 

Method  of  Teaching  Declamation 185 

Speech  of  Satan  to  his  Legions,  with  Gestures 185 

The  Miser  and  Plutus,  with  Gestures 192 


CONTENTS. 


PART    II. 

EXERCISES  IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION. 

Account  Current Anonymous  358 

Adams  and  Jefferson Wirt  353 

An  Address  to  a  Young  Student Knox  356 

Antony's  Oration  over  Cffisar's  Body Shakspeare  252 

Apostrophe  to  Light Milton  228 

Apostrophe  to  the  Queen  of  Prance Burke  209 

Battle  of  Hohenlinden Campbell  204 

Battle  of  Warsaw Campbell  210 

Battle  of  Waterloo Byron  211 

Brutus's  Oration  on  the  Death  of  Caesar Shakspeare  250 

Casabianca Mrs.  Hemans  338 

Cato's  Senate Addison  235 

Cato's  Soliloquy Addison  248 

Character  of  Pitt Robertson  286 

Childe  Harold's  Address  to  the  Ocean Byron  206 

Clarence's  Dream Shakspeare  287 

Darkness Byron  232 

Declaration  of  Independence Jefferson  306 

Douglas's  Account  of  Himself Home  304 

Edward  and  Warwick 221 

Elegy  written  in  a  Country  Churchyard Gray  300 

Extract  from  a  supposed  Speech  of  John  Adams,  in  support  of 

American  Independence Webster  363 

Genius Akenside  321 

God Derzhavin  267 

Greatness Akenside  322 

Hamlet's  Soliloquy Shakspeare  249 

Happy  Freedom  of  the  Man  whom  Grace  makes  Fiee.Cowper  279 

Hyder  Ali , Burke  230 

Hymn  to  the  Deity Thomson  262 

Industry  necessary  to  the  Attainment  of  Eloquence Ware  333 

Knowledge De  Witt  Clinton  364 

Lines  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  Alexander  Selkirk,  dur- 
ing his  solitary  abode  on  the  Island  of  Juan  Fernandez  Cowper  179 

Lochiel's  Warning Campbell  217 

Lochinvar Scott  336 

Marco  Bozzaris Halleck  213 

Mariner's  Hymn Mrs.  Southey  298 

Meeting  of  Satan,  Sin,  and  Death Milton  339 

Moses  Smiting  the  Rock Van  Vranken  326 

Motives  to  the  Practice  of  Gentleness Blair  329 

Night  Thoughts Young  315 


X  CONTENTS. 

Ode  on  the  Passions Collins  256 

Ossian's  Address  to  the  Sun 203 

Paper Franklin  325 

Perpetual  Adoration Moore  294 

Pitt's  Reply  to  Walpole 319 

Reception  of  Columbus  on  his  return  to  Spain W.  Irving  349 

Scene  from  Pizarro Kotzebue  295 

Schemes  of  Life  often  Illusory Dr.  Johnson  359 

Sincerity Tilhtson  343 

Speech  of  Cicero  against  Verres 244 

Speech  of  Lord  Chatham 225 

Speech  of  Patrick  Henry 259 

Speech  of  Rolla R.  B.  Sheridan  205 

Speech  of  Satan  to  his  Legions Milton  201 

Speech  of  Satan,  with  Gestures 185 

Tell's  Address  to  the  Mountains Knowles  203 

Thanatopsis Bryant  241 

The  American  Flag Drake  <$>  Hallcck  328 

The  Burial  of  Sir  John  Moore Wolfe  281 

The  Chameleon Merrick  275 

The  Exile  of  Erin Campbell  280 

The  Destruction  of  Senacherib Byron  335 

The  Grave  of  Franklin Miss  C.  H.  Waterman  305 

The  Heavens  and  the  Earth  show  the  Glory  and  Wisdom  of. 

their  Creator Goldsmith  282 

The  Hermit Beattie  220 

The  Importance  of  Order  in  the  Distribution  of  our  Time  Blair  331 

The  Invocation Mrs.  Hemans  278 

The  Journey  of  a  Day Dr.  Johnson  311 

The  Land  that  we  Live  in C.  W.  Thomson  316 

The  Mariner's  Dream Dimond  265 

The  Miser  and  Plutus Gay  138 

The  Miser  and  Plutus,  with  Gestures 192 

The  Rose Cowper  181 

The  Three  Warnings Mrs.  Thrale  272 

The  Union  of  the  States Webster  345 

Time Van  Vranken  327 

To  the  Ursa  Major Ware  290 

Without  God  in  the  World Rev.  Robert  Hall  270 

Wolsey's  Farewell  to  Cromwell Shakspeare  318 

Wolsey's  Soliloquy Shakspeare  317 

Woman R.  H.  Townsend  255 

Woman Campbell  342 


INTRODUCTIO 


//    >^      n>     ^^.  KS 

te 

x£& 


A  N  is  designed  for  action.  Na- 
ture has  so  constituted  him,  that 
both  body  and  mind  require 
daily  exercise  to  develope  their 
powers,  and  maintain  them  in  a 
vigorous  and  healthy  condition. 
The  truth  of  this  remark  is 
manifest  from  constant  observation  and  experience  —  those 
who  lead  active,  bustling  lives,  conjoined  with  temperance 
and  prudence,  commonly  possess  robust  frames,  and  healthy 
constitutions;  while  the  sedentary  and  the  indolent  are 
enervated  and  sickly. 

We  find  the  same  results  from  the  exercise  of  the  mental 
faculties.  He  whose  mind  is  constantly  employed  in  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  usually  retains  his  mental  facul- 
ties unimpaired  to  the  last.  But  not  so  with  the  man  of  ease 
and  indolence.  After  the  meridian  of  life,  the  powers  of  his 
mind,  with  those  of  the  body,  become  weaker,  and  weaker, 
and  he  finally  leaves  the  world  as  he  entered  it  —  a  child. 

The  health  and  strength  of  the  body,  therefore,  mainly 
depend  on  the  number  of  muscles  that  are  frequently  called 
into  action,  and  the  degree  of  rational  exercise  through 
which  they  pass.  Now  there  are  few,  if  any,  whose  daily 
avocations  are  so  varied  as  to  bring  into  requisition  all  the 
muscles  of  the  body :  hence  the  necessity  of  gymnastic  exer- 
cises. 

The  term,  gymnastics,  in  its  widest  sense,  signifies  all 
bodily  exercises;  in  a  more  limited  sense,  "exercises  syste- 
matically adapted  to  develope  the  physical  powers,  and  pre- 
serve them  in  perfection,  which  constitutes  the  art  of  gym* 
nasties  properly  so  called." 

(ii) 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

These  exercises,  when  commenced  in  youth,  develope  the 
muscles,  give  agility  to  the  limbs,  and  promote  the  various 
lunctions  of  the  animal  system:  in  this  way  they  impart 
strength  and  consistency  to  the  body,  and  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  lasting  health :  and  even  when  commenced  in  man- 
hood, they  invigorate  the  frame,  and  brace  it  against  the 
infirmities  of  age. 

By  the  frequent  and  energetic  exercise  of  the  muscles, 
they  are  brought  completely  under  the  control  of  volition, 
which  is  a  powerful  auxiliary  to  every  variety  of  action. 
Hence  Gymnastics  are  not  only  useful  because  they  exert  a 
healthful  influence  upon  the  body ;  but  because  they  lay  a 
good,  foundation  for  the  easy  acquisition  of  every  mechanic 
art. 

From  what  has  been  said  of  Gymnastics  in  general,  it  may 
readily  be  conceived  that  very  important  advantages  may 
be  derived  from  vocal  gymnastics. 

By  the  term,  VOCAL  GYMNASTICS,  may  be  understood  the 
principles  of  the  human  voice  as  employed  in  speech  and 
song,  as  well  as  the  training  of  the  organs  by  which  this 
voice  is  produced.  The  principles  are  the  science  of  the 
voice  —  the  training,  the  exercise  of  the  organs,  necessary 
to  develope  their  powers,  and  enable  them  to  act  with  rapid- 
ity, precision,  and  effect. 

Vocal  Gymnastics  give  the  pupil  complete  command  of 
the  muscles  of  articulation,  extend  the  compass  of  the  voice, 
and  render  it  smooth,  powerful,  and  melodious.  They  not 
only  call  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  vocal  organs,  correct 
stammering,  lisping,  &c. ;  but  they  invigorate  the  lungs,  and, 
consequently,  fortify  them  against  the  invasion  of  disease. 

All  the  blood,  in  the  course  of  its  circulation,  passes  through 
the  lungs,  where  it  undergoes  a  change,  not  only  essential 
to  health,  but  also  to  life.  Whenever  their  function,  there- 
fore, is  interrupted  by  debility,  or  disease,  the  blood  is  dete- 
riorated, and  the  whole  system  suffers;  in  fact,  the  very 
citadel  of  life  is  sapped,  and  nothing  but  a  restoration  of 
these  organs  to  their  natural  condition,  will  effect  a  return 
of  general  health.  Indeed,  the  lungs  are  of  so  much  impor- 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

tance  in  the  animal  economy,  that  the  complete  suspension 
of  their  office  is  followed  by  speedy  dissolution. 

Hence  such  healthful  measures  should  be  adopted  as  are 
calculated  to  invigorate  the  pulmonary  apparatus,  and  ena- 
ble it  to  maintain  its  integrity.  One  of  the  most  hopeful 
expedients  for  this  purpose,  is  a  well-regulated  and  perse- 
vering course  of  vocal  gymnastics. 

Were  we  to  exercise  our  voices  a  few  minutes,  every  day, 
according  to  just  principles,  the  number  of  deaths  from  pul- 
monary affections,  especially  consumption,  I  have  no  doubt, 
would  be  greatly  diminished. 

While  Vocal  Gymnastics  give  a  keenness  to  appetite,  they 
are  a  powerful  means  of  promoting  digestion.  A  young 
clergyman  entered  my  Vocal  Gymnasium,  for  the  purpose 
of  improving  his  elocution  as  well  as  his  health.  He  laboured 
under  dyspepsia  which  was  attended  with  loss  of  appetite, 
general  debility,  languor,  and  dejection  of  spirits.  But  in 
twelve  days  after  he  commenced  the  exercises,  there  was  a 
radical  change  in  his  mental  and  physical  condition  :  he  had 
become  very  cheerful ;  and,  to  use  his  own  words,  his  appe- 
tite was  ravenous.  Nor  is  this  a  solitary  case  —  numerous 
others  might  be  cited  with  the  like  happy  result. 

My  pupils  have  frequently  told  me  that  they  always  feel 
invigorated  by  the  exercises.  A  gentleman  who  was  for- 
merly a  pupil  of  mine,  and  who  had  been  in  the  practice  of 
resorting  to  a  common  gymnasium  for  the  benefit  of  his 
health,  assured  me  that  he  derived  more  advantage  from  his 
vocal,  than  from  his  athletic  exercises.  Let  the  individuals, 
therefore,  who  visit  those  gymnasia,  designed  only  for  the 
exercise  of  the  limbs,  not  neglect  the  equally  important 
gymnastics  of  the  pulmonary  organs. 
2 


PRELIMINARY  OBSERVATIONS. 


As  ELOCUTION  is  intimately  connected  with  the  voice,  and 
as  every  reader  may  not  be  prepared  to  enter  upon  a  minute 
development  of  its  various  principles,  the  following  Prelimi- 
nary Observations  may  be  of  some  advantage. 

Voice  is  sound,  produced  by  the  agitation  of  air  when 
forcibly  expelled  from  the  lungs. 

The  attributes  of  the  voice,  are  general  and  special.  The 
general  attributes  are  pitch  and  force,  and  are  common  to 
all  voices.  The  special  attributes  are  those  peculiarities 
which  render  one  voice  more  agreeable,  or  disagreeable, 
than  another,  as  sweetness,  harshness,  &c. 

The  acuteness  and  gravity  of  the  voice  depend  on  the 
contractions  and  dilatations  of  the  vocal  tube. 

The  degree  of  loudness  of  the  voice,  is  in  proportion  to  the 
expulsive  effort,  and  to  the  resistance  which  the  air  meets 
on  its  passage  through  the  glottis. 

When  air  is  forcibly  expelled  from  the  lungs,  and  not  suf- 
ficient resistance  given  to  its  egress  to  produce  what  is  gene- 
rally understood  by  the  term  voice,  an  aspirated,  or  whis- 
pered sound  is  the  result. 

From  voice  articulated  by  the  motions  of  the  lips,  tongue, 
and  other  parts  of  the  mouth,  is  produced  oral  language. 
Hence  oral  language  is  not  inaptly  termed  articulated  voice. 

There  are  two  varieties  of  oral  language — song,  and  speech. 
In  several  respects  they  resemble  each  other.  Thus  the 
notes,  both  of  song,  and  speech,  var)*-  in  pitch,  force,  and 
time.  The  most  striking  difference  between  them,  is  this : 
a  note  of  song  is  maintained  in  one  range  of  pitch  from  its 
commencement  to  its  termination ;  but  a  note  of  speech  is 
varied  in  pitch  during  its  prolongation.  If  you  prolong  the 
letter  a,  in  one  range  of  pitch,  thus : 

a 

you  will  have  an  example  of  a  note  of  song.  If  you  Utter  it 
interrogatively,  and  affirmatively,  thus : 

a"\  d. 

you  will  have  two  varieties  of  the  note  of  speech :  the  voice 
in  the  interrogation,  moving  from  a  grave  pitch  to  one  more 
acute ;  in  the  affirmation,  from  acute  to  grave. 

Perhaps  enough  has  been  said  by  way  of  preliminaries. 
The  principles  here  mentioned,  together  with  the  various 
others,  are  methodically  presented,  fully  discussed,  and  dia- 
gramically  illustrated,  in  the  course  of  the  work. 

(14)' 


ELOCUTION. 


LOCUTION  is  vocal  delivery. 
It  may  be  said  to  comprise  both  a 
sciencef  and  an  art.  The  science 
embraces  the  principles  which  con- 
stitute the  basis  of  reading  and 
speaking ;  the  art,  the  practical  ap- 
plication of  these  principles. 


Elocution  is  naturally  divided  into  two  parts ;  namely, 
Vocal  Gymnastics,  and  Gesture. 

Vocal  Gymnastics  is  the  philosophy  of  the  human 
voice,  as  well  as  the  art  of  training  the  vocal  organs 
in  speech  and  song. 

Gesture  is  the  various  postures,  and  motions,  em- 
ployed in  vocal  delivery. 


PART    I. 
VOCAL    GYMNASTICS. 

IOCAL  GYMNASTICSisthe 

philosophy  of  the  human  voice, 
as  well  as  the  art  of  training 
the  vocal  organs,  in  speech  and 
song. 

Vocal   Gymnastics   is    subdi- 
vided as  follows : 

1.  ARTICULATION,  3.  FORCE, 

2.  PITCH,  4.  TIME. 
ARTICULATION  is  the  act  of  forming,  with  the  organs 

of  speech,  the  elements  of  vocal  language. 

PITCH  is  the  degree  of  the  elevation  of  sounds. 


16  ELOCUTION. 

FORCE  is  the  degree  of  the  loudness  of  sounds. 
TIME  is  the  measure  of  sounds  in  regard  to  their 
duration. 


SECTION  I. 
ARTICULATION. 

RTICULATIONistheactof 

'  c   forming,with  the  organs  of  speech, 
the  elements  of  vocal  language. 

These  elements  may  be  formed 
separately,  as  in  the  utterance  of 
the   letters  of  the   alphabet,  as 
well  as  conjunctively,  as  in  the 
pronunciation  of  words. 
By  the  utterance  of  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  is  not  meant  the 
pronunciation  of  the  mere  names  of  the  letters,  but  the  formation 
of  the  various  sounds  which  the  letters  represent. 

A  good  articulation  is  the  perfect  utterance  of  the 
elements  of  vocal  language. 

The  first  step  towards  becoming  a  good  elocutionist, 
is  a  correct  articulation.  "  A  public  speaker,  possessed 
of  only  a  moderate  voice,  if  he  articulates  correctly, 
will  be  better  understood,  and  heard  with  greater 
pleasure,  than  one  who  vociferates  without  judgment. 
The  voice  of  the  latter  may  indeed  extend  to  a  conside- 
rable distance,  but  the  sound  is  dissipated  in  confusion. 
Of  the  former  voice  not  the  smallest  vibration  is  wast- 
ed, every  stroke  is  perceived  at  the  utmost  distance  to 
which  it  reaches ;  and  hence  it  has  often  the  appear- 
ance of  penetrating  even  farther  than  one  which  is 
loud,  but  badly  articulated. 

"  In  just  articulation,  the  words  are  not  to  be  hurried 
over,  nor  precipitated  syllable  over  syllable ;  nor,  as  it 
were,  melted  together  into  a  mass  of  confusion :  they 


ARTICULATION.  17 

should  not  be  trailed,  or  drawled,  nor  permitted  to  slip 
out  carelessly,  so  as  to  drop  unfinished.  They  should 
be  delivered  from  the  lips  as  beautiful  coins  newly 
issued  from  the  mint,  deeply  and  accurately  impressed, 
neatly  struck  by  the  proper  organs,  distinct,  in  due 
succession,  and  of  due  weight."* 

Without  good  articulation,  it  is  impossible  to  be  & 
correct  reader,  or  speaker.  Those  who  have  been  ac 
customed  to  pronounce  their  words  in  a  careless  or  slo- 
venly manner,  will  find  it  difficult,  even  with  their 
best  efforts,  to  utter  them  distinctly.  The  organs  of 
articulation,  for  the  want  of  proper  exercise,  become, 
as  it  were,  paralyzed.  The  pupil,  therefore,  at  the 
very  commencement  of  his  studies,  should  be  conduct- 
ed through  a  series  of  exercises,  calculated  to  strengthen 
the  muscles  of  articulation,  and  render  them  obedient 
to  the  will.  The  best  method  for  effecting  these  pur- 
poses, is  to  exercise  the  voice  on  the  elements  of  speech ; 
first,  on  each  element  separately ;  f  secondly,  on  va- 
rious combinations. 

Under  the  head,  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION,  will  be  found  a  variety 
of  Exercises  on  the  Elements  of  the  English  language,  which  are 
calculated  to  develope  the  voice,  increase  its  compass,  and  give 
flexibility  to  the  muscles  of  articulation.  In  that  part  of  this  work 
which  consists  of  EXERCISES  IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION,  most 
of  the  sounds  liable  to  be  omitted  or  imperfectly  articulated,  are  re- 
presented by  italic  letters.  Hence  the  reader,  if  he  pay  proper 
attention  to  the  subject,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  correcting  all 
ordinary  defects  in  his  utterance. 

The  value  of  vocal  gymnastics  cannot  be  duly  appreciated  by 
those  who  have  not  experienced,  or  witnessed,  their  beneficial  re- 
sults. But,  I  feel  confident,  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  these 
exercises  will  be  considered,  by  all  intelligent  persons,  an  essential 
part  of  primary  instruction. 

*  AUSTIN'S  CHIRONOMIA,  p.  37,  38. 

t  "  When  the  elements  are  pronounced  singly,  they  may  re- 
ceive a  concentration  of  the  organic  effort,  which  gives  them  a 
clearness  of  sound  and  a  definite  outline,  if  I  may  so  speak,  at  their 
extremes,  that  make  a  fine  preparative  for  a  distinct  and  forcible 
pronunciation  in  the  compounds  of  speech."  —  Rush's  Philosophy 
of  the  Human  Voice. 

2*  B 


18  ELOCUTION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE    ELEMENTS    OP   THE    ENGLISH    LANGUAGE. 

THE  Elements  of  vocal  language  are  the  Sounds  of 
which  words  are  composed.  These  sounds  are  repre- 
sented by  graphic  characters,  called  letters. 

The  number  of  letters  in  the  English  language,  is 
twenty-six  ;  but  the  number  of  elements  is  thirty-eight. 
Hence,  as  the  number  of  elements  exceeds  the  number 
of  their  literal  signs,  the  same  letter  is  employed,  in 
different  situations,  to  represent  different  sounds/  Thus 
a  represents  four  different  sounds ;  e,  two ;  i,  two ;  o, 
three ;  u,  three ;  z,  two ;  and  there  are  six  sounds,  each 
of  which  is  represented  by  two  letters— ou,  ng,  sh,  wk, 
th  in  then,  and  th  in  thin.  -  (See  p.  19  and  20.)  If  we 
had  a  perfect  alphabet,  every  elementary  sound  would 
be  represented  by  its  appropriate  character.* 

*  That  men  have  accomplished  much  by  furnishing  the  world 
with  literature,  art,  and  science,  will  be  conceded  by  all.  Nor  will 
it  be  denied  by  any  that  there  remains  much  to  be  done  to  carry  all 
human  institutions  to  their  acme  of  excellence.  Among  the  nu- 
merous proofs  that  our  institutions  have  not  attained  their  highest 
possible  degree  of  perfection,  is  the  fact  that  the  world  is  now  fur- 
nished with  as  much  genius  for  contrivance,  wisdom  for  invention, 
and  judgment  for  application,  as  at  any  former  period.  He,  there- 
fore, who  advocates  the  doctrine  of  present  perfection  in  human 
productions,  suggests,  at  least,  the  possibility  that  that  amount  of 
mind  which  is  unnecessary  to  the  successful  application  of  the  pre- 
sent principles,  means,  and  inventions  to  their  respective  purposes, 
is  rendered  a  redundancy  by  the  want  of  appropriate  subjects  upon 
which  to  operate.  The  English  language,  though  by  no  means  far 
advanced  in  years,  has  already  been  the  subject  of  much  concur- 
rent, and  individual  action ;  yet  there  is  hardly  one  part  of  it  which 
is  not  marred  with  defect,  or  deficiency.  Even  the  English  alpha- 
bet suffers  from  both  these  imperfections.  To  attain  perfection  in 
any  thing,  is,  perhaps,  beyond  the  power  of  man,  especially  in  the 
medium  of  communicating  his  ideas.  But  although  perfection  in  lan- 
guage can  hardly  be  expected,  yet,  there  is  a  degree  of  excellence 
which  is  not  so  difficult  of  attainment  as  to  render  all  exertion  una- 


ARTICULATION. 


19 


The  elements,  as  well  as  the  letters  by  which  they 
are  represented,  are  usually  divided  into  two  classes, 
Vowels  and  Consonants.  A  more  philosophical  divi- 
sion, however,  is  into  three  classes,  Vowels,  Subvowels, 
and  Aspirates. 

The  vowels  are  pure  vocal  sounds  ;  their  number  is 
fifteen. 

The  subvowels  have  a  vocality,  but  inferior  to  that 
of  the  vowels  ;  their  number  is  fourteen. 

The  aspirates  are  made  with  the  whispering  breath, 
and,  consequently,  have  no  vocality  ;  they  are  nine  in 
number. 


Classification  of  the  Elements. 


VOWELS. 


1 

i 
6 
6 
6 
fc 
ft 

ou 


English. 

as  heard  in  ale,  day,  fate, 

arm,  farm, 

all,  law,  for, 

an,  man,  idea, 

eve,  see,  deed, 

end,  met,  err, 

ile,  fly,  pine, 

in,  pin, 

old,  no,  more, 

lose,  too,  move, 

on,  lock,  not, 

twbe,  few,  pupil, 

up,  her,  Imrt, 

full,  pull,  wolf, 

our,  now,  flowr, 


French, 
and  in    eie. 
arme,  gaz,  gaze. 


aller. 
tie, 

elle. 

~ 

eau. 

vowte. 

ecole. 

.Europe. 

ou. 


vailing.  There  are  thirty-eight  elements  in  theEnglish  alphabet,  and, 
to  represent  these  elements  by  appropriate  characters,  we  should 
have  thirty-eight  letters.  There  is,  then,  a  deficiency  in  our  alphabet 
of  twelve  letters  —  and  he  who  shall  supply  this  imperfection,  will 
be  one  of  the  greatest  benefactors  of  the  human  race.  This  work 
must  be  done  before  our  orthography  can  be  rendered  consistent, 
our  pronunciation  natural  and  uniform,  and  our  language  easy  of 
acquisition.  Until  this  is  accomplished,  words  must  be  spelled  one 
way,  and  pronounced  another — indeed,  two  languages  must  be 
learned,  instead  of  one.  Should  the  English  language,  as  some 
confidently  expect,  become  the  language  of  the  world,  the  advan- 
tages in  which  a  complete  alphabet  would  result,  can  be  conceived 
by  those  only  who  have  duly  reflected  upon  the  subject 


20  ELOCUTION. 

SUBVOWELS.  English.  French. 

b     as  heard  in  bow,  or&,  barb,          and  in  bon. 

d      .........  day,  bid,  did,  .....  Dieu. 


.........  Zight,  all,  lull,  .....  Zoup 

m  .........  mind,  storm,  maim,  .....  won. 

n  .........  no,  on,  nine,  .....  won. 

ng  .........  song,  think,  .....  ag-weau  (nearly). 

r  ......    .  .  roll,  war,  rare,  .....  roue. 

TH  .........  i-nen,  wiTH,  .....  - 

v  .........  vile,  Hue,  value,  .....  uil. 

w  .........  wo,  went,  w>orld,  .....  oui  (nearly). 

y  .........  yoke,  yonder,  .....  yacht. 

is  .........  zone,  his,  prism,  .....  zone. 

J  .........  azure,  enclosure,  .....  jardin. 

ASPIRATES. 

f  .........  fame,  if,  drift,  .....  /emme. 

h  .........  hut,  Aence,  .....  - 

k  .........  /cite,  wrecit,  kick,  .....  cor. 

p  .........  pit,  up,  .....  joapa.r 

s  .........  sin,  nice,  crisp,  .....  soeur. 

sh  .........  shade,  push,  flushed,  .....  chaise. 

t  .........  tin,  it,  tart,  .....  tour. 

th  .........  thin,  truth,  months,  .....  - 

wh  .........  what,  when,  which,  .....  - 

The  reader  may  ask  why  C,  J,  Q,  and  X,  have  not  been  classed 
with  the  elements.  These  letters  have  no  sounds  which  are  not 
represented,  in  the  above  scheme,  by  other  letters.  C  has  three 
sounds  —  the  sound  of  k,  as  in  cat;  that  of  s,  as  in  cedar,  and  that 
of  sh,  as  in  ocean.  J  expresses  the  combined  sounds  of  d  and  z  in 
azure.  Q  has  the  sound  of  k.  X,  as  in  exercise,  expresses  the 
combined  sounds  of  A;  and  s  ;  in  example,  the  combined  sounds  of 
g  and  2  in  zone  ;  in  anxious,  the  combined  sounds  of  k  and  sh.  In 
Xenophon,  x  has  the  sound  of  z  in  zone.* 


*  X  in  Xenophon  was  pronounced  by  the  ancient  Greeks  as  we 
pronounce  x  in  exercise,  thus — Ksenophon;  and  1  am  informed  by 
Mr.  Castanis,  a  native  of  the  island  of  Scio,  that  the  modern  Greeks 
BO  pronounce  it. 


ARTIC  LJLATION.  21 

CHAPTER  IL 

THE    VOWELS. 

THE  vowels  are  divided  into  Monothongs,  Diph- 
thongs, and  Triphthongs. 

The  Monothongs  consist  of  one  kind  of  sound  through- 
out their  concrete  movement,  and  consequently  are 
simple  elements ;  they  are  represented  by  the  italics  in 
the  following  words : 

arm,  all,  an,  eve,  end,  in,  on,  up,  full. 

The  Diphthongs  consist  of  two  vowel  sounds,  which 
coalesce  so  intimately  that  they  appear  like  one  uni- 
form sound ;  they  are  represented  by  the  italics  in  the 
following  words : 

ale,  tie,  lose,  tube. 

The  diphthong  a,  as  well  as  i,  has  a  characteristic 
sound  for  its  radical,  and  the  monothong, !,  for  its  van- 
ish. These  diphthongs,  under  certain  circumstances 
(for  instance,  when  they  are  carried  through  a  wide 
range  of  pitch,  as  in  interrogation  with  surprise),  are 
converted  into  triphthongs,  the  third  constituent  being 
the  monothong,  e. 

The  diphthong  6,  as  well  as  u,  has  a  characteristic 
sound  for  its  radical,  and  the  subvowel  w,  for  its  vanish. 

The  Triphthongs  consist  of  three  vowel  sounds  which 
coalesce  so  intimately  that  they  appear  like  one  uni- 
form sound ;  they  are  represented  by  the  italics,  in  the 
following  words : 

old,     our. 

The  first  constituent  of  6,  as  well  as  that  of  ou,  is  a 
sound  characteristic  of  this  element;  and  the  diph- 
thong 6  constitutes  the  second  and  the  third  constitu- 
ent of  these  triphthongs. 

The  following  scheme  is  an  analysis  of  the  diph- 
thongs and  triphthongs.  The  reader  will  observe  that 


22 


ELOCUTION. 


the  letters  which  are  employed  to  represent  the  diph- 
thongs and  triphthongs,  are  used  under  the  head,  Con- 
stituents, to  represent  their  radicals  only. 


Diphthongs.  Constituents. 

cl  A   I 

i  1—  i 

6  6  — w 

u  ft  —  w 


Triphthongs.  Constituents. 
'k*  i  —  I—  fe 


6 
ou 


6  —  6  —  w 
ou  —  6  —  w 


There  is  one  diphthong,  and  three  triphthongs,  be- 
sides those  already  noticed;  they  are  represented  by 
the  italics,  in  the  following  words : 
oil,  ay,  boy,  buoy. 

But,  as  all  their  constituents  are  to  be  found  among 
the  fifteen  vowels  before  enumerated,  they  do  not  in- 
crease the  number  of  the  elements.  This  may  be  seen 
by  the  following  analysis : 


Diphthong.     Constituents. 
oi  £  — I 


Triphthongs.  Constituents, 
ay  &  — i  —  £ 

oy  i  —  I  —  £ 

uoy  6  —  1  —  & 


During  the  utterance  of  a  monothong,  the  aperture 
of  the  mouth  remains  stationary ;  but  during  that  of  a 
diphthong,  or  triphthong,  the  aperture  is  gradually  di- 
minished till  the  commencement  of  the  last  constituent; 
it  then  remains  stationary  till  the  sound  is  ended. 
This  is  illustrated  by  the  following  diagrams : 

Diagram  1.  Diag.  2.  Diag.  3. 


The  opening  of  the  tube  (Diag.  1,)  represents  the 
aperture  of  the  mouth  in  the  utterance  of  the  mono- 

*  I  have  said  that  &  and  1  are  sometimes  diphthongs,  and  some- 
times triphthongs ;  hence,  above,  they  appear  under  both  heads. 


ARTICULATION.  23 

thong  a,  and  the  length  of  the  tube  represents  the  du- 
ration of  the  sound. 

The  large  end  of  Diag.  2  represents  the  aperture  of 
the  mouth  in  commencing  the  utterance  of  the  diph- 
thong 6  —  the  portion  of  the  figure  between  6  and  iv, 
shows  the  gradual  diminution  of  the  aperture  of  the 
mouth  during  the  utterance  of  the  first  constituent,  and 
the  remaining  portion  shows  the  stationary  position  of 
the  aperture  of  the  mouth  during  the  utterance  of  the 
second  constituent. 

The  large  end  of  Diag.  3,  represents  the  aperture  of 
the  mouth  in  commencing  the  utterance  of  the  triph- 
thong 6  —  the  portion  of  the  figure  between  6  and  6, 
shows  the  gradual  diminution  of  the  aperture  of  the 
mouth  during  the  utterance  of  the  first  constituent  — 
the  portion  between  6  and  w,  shows  the  gradual  dimi- 
nution of  the  aperture  of  the  mouth  during  the  utter- 
ance of  the  second  constituent ;  and  the  remaining  por- 
tion of  the  figure,  the  stationary  position  of  the  aperture 
of  the  mouth  during  the  utterance  of  the  third  constitu- 
ent. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    SUBVOWELS. 

B  CONSISTS  of  a  vocal  sound  and  an  aspirate.  The 
first  constituent  is  formed  with  the  lips  closed ;  the 
second,  by  aspirating  the  vowel  u,  at  the  moment  of 
their  separation.* 

When  B  is  doubled,  as  in  rabbit,  the  second  constituent  of  the 
first  B  is  omitted.  When  B  is  whispered,  the  second  constituent 
only  is  heard.  When  words  in  which  B  is  doubled  are  whispered, 
the  first  B  is  mute. 

D  consists  of  a  vocal  sound  and  an  aspirate.  The 
first  constituent  is  formed  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue 

*  Care  should  be  taken  not  to  make  the  second  constituent  vocal. 


24  ELOCUTION 

pressed  against  the  gums  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth  ; 
the  second,  by  aspirating  the  vowel  u  at  the  moment 
of  its  removal.* 

When  D  is  doubled,  as  in  addition,  the  second  constituent  of  the 
first  D  is  omitted.  When  D  is  whispered,  the  second  constituent 
only  is  heard.  When  words  in  which  D  is  doubled  are  whispered, 
the  first  D  is  mute. 

G  consists  of  a  vocal  sound  and  an  aspirate.  The 
first  constituent  is  formed  with  the  root  of  the  tongue 
pressed  against  the  curtain,  or  vail  of  the  palate ;  f  the 
second,  by  aspirating  the  vowel  u  at  the  moment  of  its 
removal.* 

When  G  is  doubled,  as  in  haggard,  the  second  constituent  of 
the  first  G  is  omitted.  When  G  is  whispered,  the  second  constitu- 
ent only  is  heard.  When  words  in  which  G  is  doubled  are  whis- 
pered, the  first  G  is  mute. 

L  is  a  vocal  sound,  made  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue 
pressed  against  the  gums  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth. 

M  is  a  nasal  sound,  made  with  the  lips  closed. 

N  is  a  nasal  sound,  formed  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue 
pressed  against  the  gums  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth. 

NG,  as  in  song,  is  a  nasal  sound,  formed  with  the 
root  of  the  tongue  pressed  gently  against  the  curtain 
of  the  palate. 

R  is  a  vocal  sound,  of  which  there  are  two  varieties. 
The  first  is  called  the  trilled  R,  and  is  made  by  caus- 
ing the  tongue  to  vibrate  against  the  gums  of  the  upper 
incisor  teeth,  while  the  breath  is  propelled  through  the 
mouth ;  the  second  is  called  the  smooth  R,  and  is  made 
with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  elevated  towards  the  centre 
of  the  roof  of  the  mouth.  R  should  be  trilled  when  it 
precedes  a  vowel,  as  in  roll,  crush,  &c, ;  but  when  it 
follows  a  vowel,  as  in  air,  orb,  &c.,  it  should  be  made 
smooth. 

I  have  met  with  a  number  of  individuals  who  could  not  trill  the 
R,  and  others  who  did  it  with  difficulty.  Those  who  cannot  trill  it 


Care  should  be  taken  not  to  make  the  second  constituent  vocal. 
In  the  language  of  anatomy,  velum  pendulum  palati. 


ARTICULATION.  25 

in  a  graceful  manner,  had  oetter  not  attempt  it  in  public ;  let  such, 
however,  not  despair  —  their  vocal  organs  may  be  rendered  flexible 
by  frequent  and  energetic  exercise. 

TH,  as  in  then,  is  a  compound  of  vocality  and  aspi- 
ration, formed  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  resting  against 
the  inner  surface  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth. 

V  is  a  compound  of  vocality  and  aspiration.  It  is 
formed  with  the  under  lip  pressed  against  the  edge  of 
the  upper  incisory  teeth. 

W  is  a  vocal  sound,  formed  with  the  lips  contracted 
as  in  the  act  of  whistling. 

Y  is  a  vocal  sound,  formed  with  the  lips  and  teeth  a 
little  separated. 

Z,  as  in  zone,  is  a  buzzing  sound,  a  compound  of  vo- 
cality and  aspiration.  It  is  formed  by  pressing  the 
tip  of  the  tongue  gently  against  the  gums  of  the  upper 
incisors,  and  forcing  out  the  breath. 

Z,  as  in  azure,  is  a  compound  of  vocality  and  aspi- 
ration. It  is  formed  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  nearly 
in  the  same  position  as  is  z  in  zone,  though  dra\vn  a 
little  further  back,  and  somewhat  widened,  so  as  to 
enlarge  the  aperture  formed  by  its  upper  surface  and 
the  roof  of  the  mouth,  through  which  the  breath  is 
forced. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    ASPIRATES. 

F,  LIKE  V,  is  formed  with  the  under  lip  pressed 
against  the  upper  incisory  teeth. 

H  is  the  inceptive  part  of  a  vowel  sound,  aspirated 
in  a  particular  way.  H  may  be  uttered  in  as  many 
varieties  of  ways  a.s  there  are  vowels  in  the  language ; 
each  requiring  the  same  posture  of  the  mouth,  which 
the  vowel  itself  requires. 

K  is  formed  by  pressing  the  root  of  the  tongue  against 


26  ELOCUTION. 

the  curtain   of  the   palate,  and   then  aspirating   the 
vowel  u. 

When  this  element  is  doubled,  as  infakle  (pronounced  flkkl)  the 
first  k  is  mute. 

P  is  formed  by  closing  the  lips,  and  then  aspirating 
the  vowel  u. 

When  this  element  is  doubled,  as  in  happy,  the  first  P  is  mute. 

S  is  a  hissing  sound,  and,  like  z  in  zone,  is  formed 
with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  pressed  gently  against  the 
gums  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth.  It  is  nearly  the  same 
as  z  in  zone  aspirated. 

SH  is  formed  with  the  tongue  in  the  same  position 
as  is  z  in  azure.  SH  is  nearly  the  same  sound  as  z  in 
azure,  aspirated. 

T  is  formed  by  pressing  the  tip  of  the  tongue  against 
the  gums  of  the  upper  incisory  teeth,  and  then  aspirat- 
ing the  vowel  u.* 

When  T  is  doubled,  as  in  attempt,  the  first  T  is  mute. 

TH,  as  in  thin,  like  th  in  then,  is  formed  with  the 
tip  of  the  tongue  pressed  against  the  upper  incisory 
teeth.  It  is  nearly  the  same  sound  as  the  subvowel 
TH  aspirated. 

WH  is  the  inceptive  part  of  the  vowel  u  aspirated 
in  a  particular  way.  The  sound  which  is  produced, 
in  the  formation  of  this  element,  is  nearly  the  same  as 
hu,  whispered.  WH  requires  the  s;i.me  posture  of  the 
mouth  that  the  vowe*  u  requires. 

That  hu  and  wh  are  n  t  identical,  may  be  proved  by  pronounc- 
ing1, alternately,  the  wo  ds  hoom  and  whoom,  and  observing  the 
contrast  between  them. 

*  Although  of  no  practical  importance,  it  may  not  be  uninterest- 
ing to  the  philosophic  reader  to  know  that  the,  second  constituent 
of  the  subvowels  B,  D,  G,  and  of  the  aspirnVt,  K,  P,  T,  is  formed 
by  aspirating  the  vowel  ft  only  when  these  elements  are  uttered 
singly,  when  they  are  final,  and  when  they  .re  followed  by  a  con- 
sonant. When  they  are  followed  by  a  t".\' •< •  .  their  second  consti- 
tuent is  formed  by  aspirating  that  vowel  >s  may  be  rendered 
obvious  by  pronouncing  forcibly,  and  del  ly,  the  words,  Bay, 
Day,  Gay,  and  Kay,  Pay,  Tay,  or  any  oth^r  words,  in  which  B,  D, 
G,  and  K,  P,  T  are  followed  by  vowels. 


ARTICULATION.  27 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE    POSTURES   OF   THE    MODTH. 

AN  accurate  knowledge  of  the  positions  which  the 
organs  of  articulation  should  assume  in  the  formation 
of  the  several  elements  of  vocal  language,  is  very  im- 
portant to  those  who  would  speak  with  ease  and  ele- 
gance. To  aid  the  reader  still  further  in  the  acquisi- 
tion of  this  knowledge,  he  is  furnished  with  the  various 
postures  of  the  mouth,  required  in  uttering  the  elements 
energetically,  and  singly. 

The  elements  are  grouped  according  to  the  posture 
in  which  the  mouth  should  be  when  they  are  formed. 
It  will  be  seen  that  the  Diphthongs  and  Triphthongs 
have  each  two  postures  of  the  mouth  —  one  at  the 
commencement,  the  other  at  the  termination  of  the  sound. 

These  postures  are,  of  course,  more  or  less  modified, 
when  the  elements  are  uttered  in  their  various  combi- 
nations, and  with  different  degrees  of  force. 

The  pupil  should  exercise  his  organs  of  speech,  in  the 
most  forcible  manner,  three  times  a  week,  and,  if  pos- 
sible, even  every  day,  on  all  the  elements.  The  vow- 
els should  be  exploded  from  the  throat,  both  interroga- 
tively and  affirmatively,  in  every  range  of  pitch  within 
the  compass  of  the  voice,  and  with  every  possible  de- 
gree of  force. 

The  vowels  are  exploded  in  the  following  manner: 
make  a  full  inspiration,  close  the  glottis,  and  contract 
the  muscles  of  expiration  so  as  to  condense  the  air  in 
the  lungs,  then  utter  the  element  with  a  sudden  and 
forcible  emission  of  the  breath.  The  sounds  thus  pro- 
duced may  be  denominated  vocal  thunder;  the  effect 
upon  an  audience!  is  electrical. 

This  exercise  strengthens  the  vocal  organs,  and  ena- 
bles the  speaker  to  be  heard  at  a  great  distance,  with 
very  little  effort,  pr  expenditure  of  breath.  It  is  also 
beneficial  to  healli'. 


28 


ELOCUTION 


yoke 
azure  1 


sha.de) 


ARTICULATION. 


29 


• 


30  ELOCUTION. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DEFECTIVE    ARTICULATION. 

ARTICULATION  is  defective  when  one  or  more  ele- 
ments of  a  word  are  omitted,  or  imperfectly  formed ;  or 
when  one  element  is  substituted  for  another. 

Defective  articulation  is  exceedingly  common  :  per- 
haps there  is  not  one  individual  in  ten  thousand  whose 
articulation  is  perfect.  This  arises  from  the  neglect  of 
a  proper  gymnastic  training  of  the  organs  of  speech  in 
childhood.  As  soon  as  children  are  capable  of  imitating 
sounds,  they  should  be  taught  the  elements  of  vocal 
language ;  and,  to  facilitate  their  acquisition  of  this 
knowledge,  they  should  be  made  to  exercise  before  a 
mirror,  so  as  to  compare  the  movements  of  their  own 
lips  with  those  of  the  lips  of  their  instructor.  By  pur- 
suing this  course,  a  good  foundation  will  be  laid  for  a 
perfect  and  graceful  articulation. 

In  that  part  of  this  work  which  ^-"insists  of  EXERCISES 
IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION,  all,  or  nearly  all,  the 
letters  representing  sounds  liable  to  be  omitted,  or  im- 
perfectly articulated,  are  italicised.  Hence  it.  is  not 
necessary  to  furnish  examples,  ar  reat  of  the  subject 
minutely,  in  this  place.  There  arv,  however,  some  in- 
stances of  defective  articulation,  v  aich  are  not  pointed 
out  by  the  italic  letters  —  these  are  so  important  that 
they  deserve  special  notice.  I  allude  to  those  cases  in 
which  one  element  is  substituted  for  another.  The 
remainder  of  this  chapter  will  be  devoted  to  their  con- 
sideration. 

Children  are  apt  to  substitute  the  sound  of  d  for  that 
of  g  in  gay ;  and  the  sound  of  t  for  that  of  k,  or  c  in 
cat.  Thus,  for  gay,  they  say  day  ;  for  cake,  tate>  &c. 

To  enable  the  pupil  to  correct  these  faults,  I  explain 
to  him  the  manner  in  which  the  sou*  ds  of  g  and  k  are 


ARTICULATION.  31 

produced  —  they  are  formed  by  pressing  the  root  of 
the  tongue  against  the  soft  palate,  and  not,  like  d  and 
t  by  pressing  its  tip  against  the  gums  of  the  upper 
incisors.  I  then  direct  him  to  pronounce,  after  me,  the 
elements,  d,  g,  and  t,  k,  and  the  syllables  da,  ga9  and 
ta,  ka,  thus : 

d,  g;  d,g;  d,  g;  d,  g;  d,  g;  d,  g;  d,  g;  d,  g;  d,  g. 
t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k ;  t,  k. 

da,  ga ;  d^,  g§. ;  da,  gi ;  da,  ga ;  d&,  g& ;  d£,  g£ ;  &c. 

ta,  ka;  t^,  ka;  ta,  ka;   ta,  ka;   t£,  k&  ;   tfe,  k£  ;  &c. 

The  object  of  this  exercise  is  to  contrast  the  substituted 
sound  with  the  correct  one. 

When  this  plan  does  not  prove  successful,  I  open  my 
mouth  as  widely  as  possible,  so  that  the  tip  of  the 
tongue  cannot  touch  the  gums  of  the  upper  teeth,  and 
request  the  pupil  to  open  his  in  like  manner.  I  then 
direct  him  to  pronounce,  after  me,  the  following  sylla- 
bles : 

ga,  ga,  ga,  g£  ;  ge,  g£  ;  gl,  gl ;  g6,  g6,  g6  ;  gu,  gu,  gu  ;  gou. 
ka,  ka,  ka,  k&  ;  kfe,  k£  ;  kl,  kl ;  k6,  k6,  k6  ;  ku,  ki,  ki  ;  kou. 
ag,  feg,  ig,  6g,  6g,  oug ;  ak,  6k,  Ik,  6k,  fik,  ouk. 

When  neither  of  these  schemes  proves  successful,  I 
request  the  pupil  to  press  his  tongue  downwards,  and 
backwards,  with  his  index  finger,  while  I  do  the  same, 
and  pronounce,  after  me,  the  syllables  in  the  preceding 
exercise.  This  I  have  never  known  to  fail. 

Some  children  omit  the  element  z,  when  it  follows  d, 
and  the  element . -h  when  it  follows  t ;  for  instance,  they 
pronounce  John,  ?,  and  Charles,  tarles,  &c.*  My 
method  of  corm  i  i  ig  these  defects  is  to  contrast  the 
false  pronunciation  with  the  true  one,  as  in  the  follow- 
ing exercise : 

da,  d*a;  da,  .iia  :  da,  d2a;  da,  dSa;  dfe,  d2&;   &c. 

ta,  tsha;  ta,  t?hA;  ta,  tsha;  ta,  tsha ;  t£,  tsh&;   &c. 

*  J  is  a  compound  of  d  and  z  in  azure;  and  ch  is  equivalent  to 
t*h. 


32  ELOCUTION. 

The  v  and  w  are  confounded  by  some  perons ;  for 
instance,  when  they  would  say  vine,  they  say  wine,  and 
vice  versa.  An  attention  to  the  proper  postures  of  the 
mouth,  in  the  production  of  these  elements  will  soon 
enable  the  pupil  to  correct  this  fault.*  (See  pos- 
tures of  the  mouth,  page  28.)  The  following  exercise, 
founded  on  the  principle  of  contrast,  should  be  fre- 
quently practised  by  the  pupil,  in  the  most  energetic 
manner. 

v£,  wi  ;  vS,,  W&  ;  4V&,  wli ;  v&,  wS. ;  ve,  we  ;  ve,  we  ;  &c. 
•    w&,  v&;  w&,  v£;  w£,  va ;  wa,  va;  we,  ve ;  we,  ve ;  &c. 

In  correcting  faults  in  articulation,  I  often  find  it 
advantageous  to  exercise  the  pupil  before  a  mirror,  that 
he  may  observe  the  contrast  between  the  movements 
of  his  own  mouth,  and  those  of  mine. 

LISPING. 

Lisping  is  the  substitution  of  the  sound  of  th  for  that 
of  some  other  letter,  generally  for  that  of  s  in  sin. 
Thus  the  words,  sale,  send,  sight,  song,  &c.,  are  pro- 
nounced thole,  thend,  thigh t,  thong ,,  &c. 

The  lisper  should  be  told,  that,  it  forming  the  sound 
of  th,  the  tip  of  the  tongue  is  pressed  gently  against 
the  inner  surface  of  the  upper  incisor  teeth ;  whereas, 
in  forming  that  of  s,  it  is  placed,  in  like  manner,  against 
the  gums  of  the  upper  incisor  teeth.  Hence,  to  avoid 
making  th  for  s,  the  tongue  should  be  drawn  back  a 
little,  and  its  point  turned  upwar  ainst  the  gums  of 
the  upper  teeth.  In  the  correction  >f  lisping,  the  fol- 
lowing exercise  may  be  practised  with  advantage : 

tha,  sa;  tha,  sa;  tha,  sa ;  tha,  sa;  J.i    ,  se ;  th£,  th£ ;  &c. 


*  A  young  gentleman  recently  entered  my  institution  who  had 
many  faults  in  his  utterance.  Among  other?  was  the  singular  one 
of  pronouncing  vw  for  v:  for  vine,  he  said  vwine;  for  vale,  vwale, 
&c.  This,  as  well  as  the  other  numerous  faults  with  which  his 
pronunciation  was  marred,  arose  from  th'-;  want  of  proper  instruc- 
tion upon  the  use  of  the  organs  of  speech. 


ARTICULATION.  33 

The  defects  of  articulation,  in  which  one  element 
is  substituted  for  another,  are  numerous ;  but,  as  the 
method  of  treatment  is  similar  in  all,  it  is  presumed 
enough  has  been  said  to  enable  the  teacher  to  manage 
them  successfully,  particularly  as  appropriate  exer- 
cises, for  most  of  them,  will  be  found  in  the  practical 
part  of  this  work. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

STAMMERING. 

STAMMERING  is  a  functional  derangement  of  the  or- 
gans of  speech,  which  renders  them  incapable,  under 
certain  circumstances,  of  promptly  obeying  the  com- 
mands of  the  will. 

In  a  majority  of  cases,  the  cause  of  this  affection 
operates  through  the  medium  of  the  mind. 

Stammering  is  cured  by  a  regular  course  of  hygienic 
elocution.  But,  as  the  disease  exists  under  a  variety 
of  forms,  it  requires  a  variety  of  treatment.  And,  as 
the  treatment  is  medico-elocutional,  he  who  would 
apply  it  successfully,  must  unite  the  skill  of  the  elocu- 
tionist with  that  of  the  physician.  The  idea  that  non- 
medical  men  are  capable  of  discharging  the  duties  of 
applying  the  remedies  to  complicated  complaints  of 
the  human  body,  is  a  sui  generis  in  logic,  and  a  bane 
in  the  practice  of  the  healing  art. 

As  a  full  consideration  of  the  subject  of  stammering 
is  not  compatible  with  the  design  of  this  work ;  and,  as 
I  am  preparing  for  publication  another  which  will 
treat  exclusively  of  impediments  of  speech,  I  shall  con- 
clude the  present  chapter  with  the  following 

Remarks  on  Stammering,  from  a  Lecture  on  Elocution 
delivered  before  the  American  Lyceum,  May  6,  1837, 
by  Andrew  Comstock,  M.D. 

For  the  last  ten  years  the  author  of  these  REMARKS  has 
been  engaged  in  an  investigation  of  the  philosophy  of  the 

c 


34  ELOCUTION. 

human  voice,  with  a  view  to  the  formation  of  a  system  of 
just  ELOCUTION,  and  to  the  discovery  of  the  true  means  for 
removing  IMPEDIMENTS  OF  SPEECH  IN  STAMMERERS.  How  far 
he  has  succeeded  in  his  attempt,  is  not  for  him  to  say.  His 
system  is  the  result  of  his  own  reflection  and  experience ; 
and,  as  it  is  founded  in  philosophy,  it  is  the  only  true  system. 
The  following  pages  contain  the  mere  outlines  of  the  system. 
The  work  itself  will  be  presented  to  the  public  as  soon  as 
the  author's  other  labours  will  permit. 


Stammering  or  stuttering  is  a  hesitation  or  interruption  of  speech, 
and  is  usually  attended  with  more  or  less  distortion  of  feature. 
This  affection  presents  itself  under  a  variety  of  forms ;  but  my  limits 
will  not  allow  me  to  give  a  particular  description  of  them.  I  will 
notice  only  the  most  striking. 

In  some  cases,  the  stammerer  makes  an  effort  to  speak,  and  all 
his  breath  is  expelled  without  producing  vocality  ;  in  others,  the 
lips  are  spasmodically  closed :  —  these  two  forms  often  occur  in  the 
same  case.  Sometimes  the  stammerer,  while  speaking  or  reading, 
loses  all  power  over  the  vocal  organs,  and  remains  some  moments 
with  his  mouth  open,  before  he  can  recover  sufficient  energy  to 
proceed.  In  many  cases,  the  stammerer  repeats  the  word  imme- 
diately preceding  the  one  he  is  attempting  to  pronounce,  or  he  re- 
peats, in  a  rapid  manner,  the  first  element,  or  the  first  syllable,  of 
the  difficult  word. 

CAUSES.  —  The  predisposing  causes  are  nervous  irritability  and 
delicacy  of  constitution. 

The  most  usual  exciting  causes  are  diffidence,  embarrassment,  a 
fear  of  not  being  successful  when  about  to  make  an  effort  to  speak, 
an  attempt  to  speak  faster  than  the  vocal  organs  can  assume  the 
proper  positions  for  utterance.  Two  or  more  of  these  causes  often 
occur  in  the  same  case.  Sometimes  the  habit  of  stammering  is 
acquired  by  imitation. 

The  proximate  cause  of  stammering  is  a  spasmodic  action  of  the 
muscles  of  speech. 

PROGNOSIS.  —  The  probability  of  a  cure  depends  upon  the  follow- 
ing circumstances  :  If  the  stammerer  has  a  cheerful  disposition,  is 
distinguished  for  energy  of  mind  and  decision  of  character,  can  ap- 
preciate the  variations  of  pitch  in  speech  and  song,  or,  in  other 
words,  has  an  ear  for  music  and  a  taste  for  elocution,  the  prognosis 
is  favourable.  But  if  he  is  of  a  nervous  temperament,  subject  to 
melancholy,  irresolute  of  purpose,  incapable  of  imitation  in  speaking 
and  singing,  the  prognosis  is  unfavourable. 

TREATMENT.  —  The  stammerer  should  be  impressed  with  the 
importance,  nay,  necessity,  of  giving  exclusive  attention  to  the  sub- 
ject ;  arid  he  should  not  be  allowed  to  converse  with  any  one  till 


ARTICULATION.  36 

he  can  speak  without  stammering.  These  rules  cannot  be  too 
strongly  enforced.  I  am  fully  persuaded  of  this  from  my  own  ex- 
perience. Several  stammerers,  who  have  placed  themselves  under 
my  care,  taking  but  two  or  three  lessons  a  week,  and  attending  to 
their  usual  avocations,  have  left  me  disappointed ;  while  those  who 
have  given  undivided  attention  to  the  subject,  have  been  entirely 
relieved.  True,  many  are  more  or  less  benefited  even  by  occasion 
ally  taking  a  lesson ;  but  it  is  very  difficult,  by  any  irregular  course, 
to  effect  a  radical  cure.  The  habit  of  stammering  should  be  ar- 
rested at  once;  for,  while  it  is  continued,  how  is  it  possible  that  the 
habit  of  speaking  correctly  can  be  established  ] 

Great  pains  should  be  taken  to  inspire  the  stammerer  with  confi- 
dence. He  should  be  convinced  that  his  success  depends  mainly 
upon  his  own  exertions :  that  he  must  pursue  the  various  exercises 
assigned  him  with  indefatigable  zeal,  with  untiring  industry ;  that 
he  has  the  same  organs  of  speech  as  other  people,  and  nothing  is 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  use  them  as  well,  but  a  conviction  in  his 
ability  to  do  so.  To  think  that  one  can  do,  gives  almost  the  ability 
to  accomplish — but  to  think  that  one  cannot  do,  virtually  takes 
away  the  ability  to  do,  even  where  it  is  ample. 

Stammering  is  often  continued  by  the  subordinate  estimation 
which  the  stammerer  puts  upon  himself.  He  is  too  apt  to  consider 
those  around  him  giants,  and  himself  a  dwarf.  As  this  estimation 
of  himself  serves  to  perpetuate  his  disease,  it  is  clear  that  its  reme- 
dy must  be  found  in  making  himself  equal  to  any:  if  this  mental 
classification  into  giants  and  dwarfs  must  take  place,  let  the  stam- 
merers make  themselves  the  giants,  and  those  around  them  the 
dwarfs. 

The  teacher  should  study  the  disposition  of  his  pupil :  he  should 
persuade  him  to  banish  from  his  mind  all  melancholy  thoughts  — 
in  short,  he  should  do  every  thing  in  his  power  to  render  his  pupil 
cheerful  and  happy. 

Various  athletic  exercises  should  be  resorted  to  daily,  to  invigo- 
rate all  the  muscles  of  voluntary  motion,  and  diminish  nervous  irri- 
tability. In  some  cases  it  may  be  necessary  to  have  recourse  to 
tonics,  anti-spasmodics,  bathing  in  salt  water,  frictions  over  the 
whole  surface  of  the  body,  &c.,  &c.  Electricity  may  be  used  with 
advantage  as  a  tonic,  and  also  as  a  means  of  interrupting  the  spasm 
of  the  vocal  organs. 

The  vocal  treatment  is  deduced  from  the  following  circum 
stances : 

1.  An  ability  to  sing. 

2.  An  ability  to  speak  when  alone: 

3.  And  if  the  stammerer  must  speak  before  an  audience,  the 
smaller  the  audience  and  the  farther  he  is  removed  from  it,  the 
better. 


38  ELOCUTION. 

4.  An  ability  to  speak  amidst  a  noise  that  is  sufficient  to  render 
the  human  voice  nearly  or  quite  inaudible. 

5.  An  ability  to  speak  better  in  the  dark  than  in  the  light. 

6.  An  ability  to  speak  in  a  measured  manner. 

7.  An  ability  to  speak  in  a  drawling  manner. 

8.  An  ability  to  speak  with  the  mouth  more  or  less  distorted. 

9.  An  ability  to  speak  in  any  key,  either  higher  or  lower  than 
that  in  which  the  stammerer  usually  converses. 

10.  An  ability  to  speak  with  a  halloo. 

11.  An  ability  to  speak  when  the  attention  is  divided  or  arrested 
by  some  object  or  circumstance  more  or  less  irrelevant  to  the  sub- 
ject. 

12.  An  ability  to  speak  in  concert  or  simultaneously.     Every  one 
who  has  learned  to  sing,  knows  how  much  easier  it  is  to  sing  in 
concert  than  alone.     All  the  exercises,  therefore,  for  the  cure  of 
stammering,  should,  at  first,  be  conducted  in  concert. 

Stammering  may  be  considered  a  fault  in  elocution,  the  result  of 
defective  education,  and  is  confirmed  by  habit.  If  children  were 
properly  instructed  in  speaking  and  reading,  this  affection  of  the 
vocal  organs  would,  probably,  seldom  or  never  occur.  Hence,  no 
mode  of  treatment  that  is  not  founded  in  just  elocution  or  the  cor- 
rect exercise  of  the  organs  of  speech  for  the  purposes  of  vocal  ex- 
pression, can  be  relied  on.  This  must  appear  obvious  to  every  in- 
telligent and  reflecting  mind.  The  stammerer  must  be  taught  how 
to  give  language  the  pitch,  time,  and  force  which  the  sense  requires. 
To  effect  this,  his  muscles  of  speech,  which  have  long  been  refrac- 
tory, must  be  trained  till  they  are  brought  under  the  control  of 
volition,  and  like  a  well-rnarshalled  troop  of  soldiers,  made  to  act  in 
harmonious  concert. 

Oral  language  may  be  resolved  into  certain  sounds  which  are  its 
elements.  Now  there  are  certain  positions  of  the  organs  of  speech 
more  favourable  than  others  for  the  production  of  the  elements. 
The  stammerer  should  be  made  thoroughly  acquainted  with  these 
positions,  and,  in  connexion  with  them,  should  be  required  to  exer- 
cise his  voice  in  the  most  energetic  manner  upon  all  the  elements 
singly,  till  he  can  utter  them  without  hesitation.  He  should  also 
utter  them  in  various  combinations,  not  only  according  to  the  laws 
of  syllabication,  but  in  every  irregular  way.  The  vowels  should 
be  exploded  from  the  throat  with  great  force ;  and  they  should  be 
sung,  as  well  as  pronounced  with  the  rising  and  falling  inflection, 
through  every  interval  of  pitch  within  the  compass  of  the  voice. 

The  pupil  should  be  drilled  in  various  exercises  whose  highest 
peculiarity  is  time  and  force.  Time  may  be  measured  by  means 
of  the  Metronome,  by  beating  with  the  hand,  and  by  marching.* 

*  Also  by  beating  with  the  dumb-Dens. 


ARTICULATION.  37 

Pitch,  time,  and  force,  are  the  elements  of  expression,  and  a  proper 
combination  of  them  in  reading  and  speaking,  constitutes  good  elo- 
cution. When,  therefore,  the  stammerer  becomes  master  of  these 
elements,  as  well  as  the  elements  of  the  language,  he  may  com- 
mence speaking  and  reading.  In  his  first  attempts  at  conversation, 
both  teacher  and  pupil  should  speak  in  a  deliberate  manner,  with  a 
full,  firm  tone  of  voice,  and  in  a  very  low  pitch. 

The  stammerer  should  now  commit  to  memory  a  short  piece 
which  requires  to  be  spoken  with  explosive  force;  for  example, 
14  Satan's  speech  to  his  legions."  The  members  of  the  class  should 
stand  at  a  sufficient  distance  from  each  other  to  prevent  their  hands 
coming  in  contact  when  their  arms  are  extended.  They  should 
then  pronounce  the  speech  in  concert,  after  the  teacher,  and  accom- 
pany it  with  appropriate  gesticulation.  It  should  be  repeated  again 
and  again,  till  each  pupil  can  give  it  proper  expression,  both  as 
regards  voice  and  gesture.  Each  pupil  should  then,  in  turn,  take 
the  place  of  the  teacher  and  give  out  the  speech  to  the  class.  To 
prevent  the  pupil's  stammering,  while  he  is  performing  the  teach- 
er's part,  the  teacher  himself  should  play  an  accompaniment  on  the 
violoncello,  violin,  organ,  drum,  or  some  other  instrument.  At  first 
the  notes  should  be  made  very  loud ;  but  if  the  effort  of  the  pupil, 
standing  out  of  the  class,  is  likely  to  be  successful,  they  should  gra- 
dually be  made  softer  and  softer,  and,  finally,  the  accompaniment 
omitted  altogether.  This  piece  should  be  pronounced  alternately 
with  one  which  requires  to  be  spoken  with  long  quantity  and  in  a 
low  pitch,  as  "  Ossian's  Address  to  the  Sun." 

When  the  pupil  has  mastered  these  two  kinds  of  reading,  he  may 
take  up  dignified  dialogue,  and,  lastly,  conversational  pieces.  He 
should  drawl  out  difficult  words,  which  are  generally  those  having 
short  vowels  preceded  by  labials,  dentals,  and  gutturals. 

In  very  bad  cases  of  stammering,  the  pupil  should  first  sing  the 
words,  then  drawl  them,  then  pronounce  them  with  very  long  quan- 
tity, and  thus  gradually  approximate  to  common  speaking. 

As  soon  as  the  pupils  can  speak  without  stammering,  they  should 
recite  singly  in  a  very  large  room,  or  in  the  open  air,  at  a  distance 
from  the  audience,  which,  at  first,  should  consist  of  the  members  of 
the  class  only.  A  few  visiters  should  be  occasionally  introduced, 
and  the  number  should  be  gradually  increased.  In  this  way  the 
stammerer  will  soon  acquire  sufficient  confidence  to  speak  before  a 
large  assembly.  In  some  cases  it  may  be  expedient  for  the  stam- 
merer to  recite  before  an  audience  in  a  dark  room ;  but  as  he  ac- 
quires confidence,  light  should  be  gradually  admitted. 

Stammerers,  instead  of  speaking  immediately  after  inspiration,  as 
they  should  do,  often  attempt  to  speak  immediately  after  expiration, 
when,  of  course,  they  have  no  power  to  speak.  The  lungs,  like  a 
bellows,  perform  their  part  in  the  process  of  speaking,  best,  when 
plentifully  supplied  with  air.  This  is  an  important  fact,  and  should 
4 


38 


ELOCUTION. 


be  remembered,  not  only  by  stammerers,  but  also  by  those  who  have 
occasion  to  read  or  speak  in  public.  Loud  speaking,  long-continued, 
with  the  lungs  but  partially  distended,  is  very  injurious  to  these 
organs  :  it  is  apt  to  occasion  a  spitting  of  blood,  v  hich  is  not  unfre- 
quently  a  precursor  of  pulmonary  consumption.  But  loud  speaking, 
with  proper  management  of  the  breath,  is  a  healthful  exercise  :  be- 
sides strengthening  the  muscles  which  it  calls  into  action,  it  pro 
motes  the  decarbonization  of  the  blood,  and,  consequently,  exerts  a 
salutary  influence  on  the  system  generally.  [See  additional  re- 
marks, in  Appendix  at  the  end  of  the  volume,  where  will  be  found 
an  account  of  the  new  surgical  operation  for  the  radical  cure  of 
stammering,  which  has  been  performed,  with  more  or  less  success, 
both  in  Europe  and  in  this  country.] 


SECTION  II. 


PITCH. 


ITCH  is  the  degree  of  the  eleva- 
tion of  sounds. 

As  pitch  regards  the  elevation  of  sounds, 
it  respects  their  acuteness  and  gravity.  I 
use  the  term  pitch  in  its  widest  significa- 
tion. —  In  the  science  of  music,  it  is  used 
not  only  in  the  sense  in  which  I  employ  it, 

but  it  also  has  a  special  application :  in  the 

latter,  it  is  applied  to  the  medium  note,  the  regulating  note  to 
which  instruments  are  brought  by  the  act  of  tuning.  When  ap- 
plied in  this  sense,  it  is  termed  concert-pitch.  The  note  which  has 
been  adopted,  by  common  consent,  as  the  pitch-note,  is  A,  the  open 
note  of  the  second  string  of  the  violin :  it  is  written  in  the  second 
space  of  the  treble  staff. 

A  lax  division  of  pitch  is  into  high  and  low ;  in  other 
words,  into  acute  and  grave ;  (those  notes  being  called 
high,  or  acute,  which  are  above  the  natural  pitch  of 
the  voice  ;  and  those  low,  or  grave,  which  are  below  it) 
Strictly  speaking,  the  application  of  high  and  low,  to  pitch,  is 
without  philosophic  foundation:  it  has  originated,  not  from  any 


PITCH.  39 

principles  in  the  acuteness  and  gravity  of  sound,  but  from  the  rela- 
tive position  of  the  notes  in  the  graphic  scale.  This  is  obvious 
from  the  fact  that  the  degrees  of  the  scale  may  be  exemplified  in  a 
horizontal  line,  by  varying  the  forms  of  the  graphic  notes,  as  was 
done  by  the  Greeks. 

An  exact  division  of  pitch,  as  demonstrated  by  the 
diatonic  scale,  is  into  tones  and  semitones.* 

The  word  tone,  as  here  employed,  signifies  a  certain  degree  of 
difference  in  pitch  between  two  notes,  as  that  between  the  first  and 
second  note  of  the  scale.  But  in  some  cases  we  use  the  word  tone, 
as  synonymous  with  note;  for  instance,  in  some  persons  the  tones 
of  the  voice  are  more  musical  than  in  others  —  that  is,  the  notes 
of  the  voice. 

The  diatonic  scale  consists  of  seven  sounds,  moving 
discretely  from  grave  to  acute,  or  from  acute  to  grave, 
by  different  degrees  of  pitch,  of  which  the  semitone 
may  be  the  common  measure,  or  divisor,  without  a 
fraction.  The  scale,  however,  is  not  complete  without 
the  octave,  which  is  a  repetition  of  the  first  note  in  the 
eighth  degree. 

The  notes  do  not  ascend  by  equal  degrees  of  pitch, 
but  by  tones  and  semitones  ;  the  semitones  occurring 
between  the  third  and  fourth,  and  seventh  and  eighth. 
The  order  of  the  scale,  therefore,  is  as  follows  :  two 
tones  and  a  semitone,  three  tones  and  a  semitone.  And 
should  it  be  desirable  to  extend  the  series  of  sounds,  the 
eighth  note  of  the  first  octave  will  become  the  first  note 
of  the  second  octave  ;  the  eighth  note  of  the  second  oc- 
tave, the  first  note  of  the  third,  and  so  on. 

In  teaching  the  pupil  to  "  raise  and  fall  the  eight 
notes,"  as  it  is  called,  the  monosyllables,  Do,  Re,  Mi, 
Fa,  Sol,  La,  Si,f  may  be  employed. 

Diag.  4  is  a  graphic  representation  of  the  scale.  The 
heavy,  horizontal,  parallel  lines,  represent  the  notes  ; 
and  the  spaces  between  them,  the  consecutive  intervals 
of  the  scale. 


*  DIATONIC  [Greek,  Sta,  by  or  through,  and  fwoj,  sound]. 
Ascending  or  descending  by  sounds  whose  proximate  intervals  are 
not  more  than  a  tone,  nor  less  than  a  semitone. 

t  Pronounced  D6,  RA,  M6,  Fa,  S61,  L£,  Sfe. 


40 


ELOCUTION. 


THE  DIATONIC  SCALE.  (Diag.  4.) 


-8- 
-7- 

-6- 
-5- 

_4_ 
-3- 

-2- 
-1- 

-Si- 
-La- 

-Sol- 

-Fa- 
-Mi- 

Re 

9 

-Do-- 

An  interval  is  a  difference  in  pitch.  Intervals  are 
either  discrete,  or  concrete.  A  discrete  interval  is  the 
difference  in  pitch  between  any  two  notes  which  vary 
from  each  other  in  acuteness  and  gravity.  A  concrete 
interval  is  that  portion  of  the  scale  through  which  the 
voice  slides  on  a  concrete  of  speech. 

The  difference  in  pitch  between  the  first  and  second 
note  of  the  scale,  is  called  the  interval  of  a  tone,  or 
second  ;  between  the  second  and  third,  a  tone ;  between 
the  third  and  fourth,  a  semitone ;  between  the  fourth 
and  fifth,  a  tone ;  between  the  fifth  and  sixth,  a  tone ;  be- 
tween the  sixth  and  seventh,  a  tone ;  between  the  se- 
venth and  eighth,  a  semitone. 

The  difference  in  pitch  between  the  first  and  third 
note  of  the  scale,  is  called  the  interval  of  a  third ;  be- 
tween the  first  and  fourth,  the  interval  of  a  fourth ;  be- 
tween the  first  and  fifth,  the  interval  of  a  fifth ;  between 
the  first  and  sixth,  the  interval  of  a  sixth ;  between  the 
first  and  seventh,  the  interval  of  a  seventh ;  between 
the  first  and  eighth,  the  interval  of  an  octave. 

The  intervals  between  the  first  and  third,  fourth  and 
sixth,  and  fifth  and  seventh,  are  called  major  thirds ; 
because  they  contain  two  tones,  or  four  semitones ;  but 
as  the  intervals  between  the  second  and  fourth,  third 


PITCH. 


4t 


Diag.  5. 


and  fifth,  and  sixth  and  eighth,  con- 
tain but  three  semitones,  they  are  de- 
nominated minor  thirds. 

In  the  expression  of  our  thoughts 
by  oral  language,  we  employ  three 
sorts  of  voice — the  natural  voice, 
the  falsetto  voice,  and  the  whispering 
voice,  which  I  shall  now  attempt  to 
describe. 

The  medium  compass  of  the  voice, 
in  those  whose  voices  have  been  pro- 
perly cultivated,  is  three  octaves.* 
There  is,  however,  a  point  of  pitch 
at  which  the  voice,  in  ascending 
the  scale,  is  said  to  break.  This 
point,  in  a  majority  of  persons,  is 
about  two  octaves  above  the  lowest 
note  of  the  voice.  The  natural  voice 
embraces  all  the  notes  below  this 
point ;  the  falsetto,  all  the  notes  above 
it.  (See  Diag.  5.) 

The  Italians  call  the  natural  voice  voce  di 
petto,  and  the  falsetto  voice  voce  di  testa  ;f 
because  they  suppose  the  former  to  come 
from  the  chest,  and  the  latter  from  the  head. 
This  error  has  arisen  from  a  want  of  anato- 
mical and  physiological  knowledge  of  the 
vocal  organs.  Voice  is  never  formed  in  the 
chest,  or  in  the  head ;  it  is  always  formed  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  larynx,  at  the  aperture 
of  the  glottis.  It  is,  however,  formed  higher, 
or  lower  in  the  throat,  according  to  its  de- 
gree of  acuteness,  or  gravity.  At  the  command  of  the  will,  the 
larynx  may  be  elevated,  or  depressed,  and  the  aperture  of  the  glot- 
tis enlarged,  or  diminished.  The  larynx  is  the  most  depressed,  and 
the  aperture  of  the  glottis  the  most  dilated,  when  the  gravest  sound 
is  formed ;  and  the  larynx  is  the  most  elevated,  and  the  aperture 


8,-Do- 

7 

-Si- 

6 

-La- 

| 

E> 

5 

-Sol- 

d 

,2 

2 

IS 

4  -Fa- 

^ 

'T-j 

3  -Mi- 

£ 

8 

2 

-Re- 

o 

P" 



1 

-Do- 

— 

s 

7 

-Si- 

s 

3 

EC 

G 

-La- 

0 

5 

-Sol- 

1 

W 

4 

-Fa- 

,3 

3 

-Mi- 

d. 

• 

J 

0 

[3 

2 

-Re- 

P1 

3 

"3 

1 

-Do- 



H 

_3 

7 

-Si- 

^B 

^ 

6 

-La- 

5 

-Sol- 

i 

4 

-Fa- 

<s 

3 

-Mi- 

2 

-Re- 

1 

-Do- 

*  It  is  said  that  the  ear  is  capable  of  perceiving  nine  octaves, 
f   Voce  di  petto  (Ital.),  voice  from  the  breast.     Voce  di  testa, 
voice  from  the  head. 

4* 


42         -  ELOCUTION. 

of  the  glottis  the  most  contracted,  when  the  acutest  sound  is  formed. 
Hence  grave  sounds  appear  to  come  from  the  chest,  and  acute  ones 
from  the  head,  or  roof  of  the  mouth.  From  this  circumstance,  no 
doubt,  has  arisen  the  error  of  calling  the  natural  voice  voce  di  petto, 
and  the  falsetto  voice  voce  di  testa. 

The  whispering  voice  does  not,  like  the  natural  voice 
and  the  falsetto,  owe  its  peculiarity  to  pitch,  but  to  the 
absence  of  what  is  generally  understood  by  the  term 
vocality.  The  compass  of  the  whispering  voice  is  about 
an  octave.  My  own  extends  through  ten  degrees  of 
the  scale.* 

The  natural  pitch  of  the  female  voice  is  an  octave 
above  that  of  the  male  voice.  The  pitch  of  the  female 
voice  corresponds  to  that  of  the  violin ;  the  pitch  of  the 
male  voice,  to  that  of  the  violoncello.  The  voices  of 
boys  are  of  the  same  pitch  as  the  female  voice  —  one 
octave  above  a  man's  voice.  When  boys  are  about  the 
age  of  fourteen,  their  voices  undergo  a  change  of  pitch. 

The  notes  of  the  falsetto  voice  are  called  treble ;  the 
upper  notes  of  the  natural  voice,  tenor;  and  the  lower 
notes  of  the  natural  voice,  bass.-\  (See  Diag.  5.) 

The  divisions  of  the  voice,  as  given  by  Italian  au- 
thors, and  adopted  by  many  musicians  of  other  coun- 
tries, are  as  follows : 

"  There  are  three  departments  in  the  human  voice, 
viz.,  the  high,  the  middle,  and  the  low.  These  depart- 
ments are  in  the  female,  as  well  as  in  the  male  voice. 
Soprano,  mezzo  soprano,  and  contralto,  are  female  voices. 
Tenore,  baritono,  and  basso,  are  male  voices. "J 

The  reader  will  observe  that  the  falsetto  voice  is  not 
included  in  the  above  division. 

To  a  bass,  a  baritone,  and  a  contralto  voice,  natu- 

*  Notes  analogous  to  those  of  the  whispering  voice  may  be  made 
on  the  German  flute,  and  some  other  wind  instruments,  through  the 
compass  of  an  octave. 

f  When  I  speak  of  the  voice,  I  speak  of  the  adult  male  voice, 
unless  otherwise  stated. 

|  Introduction  to  the  Art  and  Science  of  Music,  by  Phil.  Tra- 
jetta. 


PITCH.  43 

rally  good,  or  made  so  by  cultivation,  Dr.  Rush  applies 
the  term  orotund. 

The  notes  of  music  are  named  after  the  first  seven  letters  of  the 
alphabet,  and  are  represented  by  graphic  notes,  which  are  written 
on  five  horizontal,  parallel  lines,  and  in  the  intermediate  spaces. 
These  lines  and  spaces  are  called  the  staff.  (See  Diag.  6.)  The 
lines  and  spaces  of  the  staff  are  counted  upward,  that  is,  the  lowest 

THE  STAFF.     (Diag.  6.) 

(1=  —f-9=*-4') 

LINES.  <  3-  0--m — dEI  ~2  >  SPACES. 

C  i=^~~*"*  - 1=1 3 

line  of  the  staff  is  called  the  first  line,  the  one  above  it  the  second 
line,  and  so  on ;  the  lowest  space  is  called  the  first  space,  the  next 
the  second  space,  and  so  on.  (See  Diag.  6.)  Each  line,  and  each 
space,  is  called  a  degree.  Hence,  as  there  are  five  lines,  and  four 
spaces,  the  staff  includes  nine  degrees.  (See  Diag.  6.) 

When  it  is  desirable  to  extend  the  notes  above  or  below  the  staff, 
short  lines,  called  ledger  lines,  are  employed.  (See  Diag.  7.) 

THE    STAFF   WITH    LEDGER    LINES.       (Diag.  7.) 


As  the  great  scale  of  sounds,  which  includes  all  the  notes  that 
can  be  made  by  instrumental  means,  is  very  extensive,  it  has  been 
found  convenient  to  divide  it  into  two  parts,  and  allot  a  staff  to  each 
part.  The  notes  in  the  upper  division  of  the  great  scale  are  writ- 
ten on  what  is  called  the  treble  staff;  those  in  the  lower  division, 
upon  what  is  denominated  the  bass  staff. 

To  distinguish  between  the  two  staffs,*  and  to  determine  the 
names  of  the  graphic  notes,  and  the  sounds  which  they  represent, 
characters  called  cleffs  are  placed  at  the  beginning  of  each  staff. 

The  treble  cleff  is  called  G,  because  a  particular  TREBLE  CLEFF. 
G  note  is  written  upon  that  line  of  the  staff  on  which 
the  main  part  of  this  character  is  placed.   This  note, 
called  the  G  cleff  note,  occupies  that  point  of  pitch 
at  which  the  falsetto  voice  generally  commences. 

The  bass-cleff  is  called  F,  because  a  particular  F  note  is  written 

*  In  pluralizing  staf£  s  is  preferable  to  ves.  (See  Brown's  Eng« 
list  Syntax.) 


44  ELOCUTION. 

upon  that  line  of  the  staff  which  this  character  crosses    BASS  CLEFF 

as  in  the  margin.   The  pitch  of  this  note,  called  the 

bass  cleffnote,  is  nine  degrees  of  the  diatonic  scale 

below  that  of  the  treble  cleff  note,  and  one  octave 

above  the  lowest  note  of  the  majority  of  bass  voices 

which  have  been  properly  cultivated.     (See  Diagram  8.) 

THREE  OCTAVES  OF  THE  FINGER-BOARD  OF  THE  PIANO,  AND  THO 
TWO  STAFFS,  WITH  THEIR  CLEFFS.     (Diag.Q.} 


FGABCDEFGABCDEFGABCDEF 


2 


EEp|p|EpiI 


1 


9* 


Diag.  8.  represents  three  octaves  of  the  finger-board  of  the  piano- 
forte, and  the  two  staffs,  with  their  cleffs.  The  notes  are  written 
upon  the  staffs  opposite  those  keys  of  the  piano  by  which  they  are 
respectively  produced. 

The  usual  compass  of  a  modern  grand  piano-forte,  is  six  octaves. 
The  instrument  extends  one  octave  below,  and  two  octaves  above 
that  portion  of  the  finger-board  which  is  represented  in  Diag.  8. 

The  keys  of  the  piano,  like  the  notes  which  they  severally  pro- 
duce, are  named  after  the  first  seven  letters  of  the  alphabet :  the 
key  which  produces  the  F  note  is  called  the  F  Key;  that  which 
produces  the  G  note,  the  G  Key ;  that  which  produces  the  A  note, 
the  A  Key,  and  so  on. 

The  finger-board  of  the  piano  consists  of  white  and  black  keys. 
The  instrument  is  so  constructed,  that  if  you  touch  the  white  keys 
in  their  consecutive  order,  a  diatonic  series  will  be  produced*  but 
if  you  touch  all  the  keys,  white  and  black,  in  their  consecutive 
order,  a  semitonic  series  will  be  the  result. 

In  the  diatonic  scale,  as  has  been  shown,  there  are  five  tones, 
and  two  semitones.  There  are,  however,  two  varieties  of  the  scale  : 
one  is  called  the  major  mode ;  the  other,  the  minor  mode.  In  the 
major  mode,  the  first  semitone  is  between  the  third  and  fourth  de- 


PITCH. 


45 


gree  of  the  scale;  the  second,  between  the  seventh  and  eighth. 
(Diagram  4,  p.  40,  represents  the  major  scale.)  The  minor  mode, 
in  ascending,  has  the  first  semitone  between  the  second  and  third 
degree ;  the  second,  between  the  seventh  and  eighth ;  but  in  de- 
scending, the  second  semitone  is  between  the  fifth  and  sixth.  (See 
Diagram  9.) 

(Diag.  9.) 


No.  1. 


No.  2. 


No.  3. 


No.  4. 


Dr. 

| 

i  *-} 

C, 

o; 

1  O 

T.n 

fi 

\ 

T,a 

,9 

A 

T,T 

R  — 

A 

U 
11 

in 

—  A#  or  Bb 
—  A  .... 

Sol 

-, 

G 

Sol 

7 

— 

Gr 

Sol 

7  _ 

G 

9 
R 

—  G#  or  Ab 
—  G    

Fa 

| 

F 

Fa 

6 

— 

F# 

FTI 

)  — 

F 

7 
6 

—  F#  or  Gb 
F 

Mi 

s 

F, 

.  •  . 

Mi 

5 

F, 

•  •  • 

Mi 

)  — 

F, 

s 

—  E  

T?P 

9 

D 

T?P 

4 

r> 

PP 

|  

ft 

4 
3 

—  DfforEb 
_  D  

Do 

1 

— 

C 

... 

Do 

Si 

La 

3 

2 

1 

— 

B 

A 

... 

Do 

Si 

La 

!z 

C 
13 

A 

.... 

2 
1 

—  C#  or  Db 
—  C  

No.  1,  in  Diagram  9,  represents  the  ascending  and  descending 
major  scale ;  No.  2,  the  ascending  minor  scale ;  and  No.  3,  the  de- 
scending minor  scale. 

There  is  another  scale,  called  the  semitonic,  or  chromatic.  It  is 
formed  by  dividing  the  whole  tones  of  the  diatonic  scale  into  semi- 
tones, by  five  additional  sounds.  The  chromatic  scale  may  be  il- 
lustrated by  touching  all  the  white  and  black  keys  of  a  piano-forte, 
in  their  consecutive  order.  (The  chromatic  scale  is  represented  by 
No.  4,  in  Diag.  9.) 

The  sounds  which  compose  the  diatonic  scale,  as  I  have  said,  are 
named  after  the  first  seven  letters  of  the  alphabet.  The  five  addi- 
tional sounds,  which,  when  added  to  the  diatonic  scale,  divide  it 
into  semitones,  are  called  fiats,  or  sharps,  according  as  they  receive 
the  names  of  the  notes  immediately  below,  or  of  those  immediately 
above  them.  Thus,  the  second  note  of  the  chromatic  scale  of  C,  is 
called  C  sharp,  or  Dflat;  the  fourth  is  called  D  sharp,  or  Eflat; 
the  seventh,  F  sharp,  or  G  fiat ;  the  ninth,  G  sharp,  or  Aflat; 
and  the  eleventh,  A  sharp,  or  Bflat.  (See  No.  4,  in  Diag.  9.) 

When  a  note  is  to  be  sung,  or  played  sharp,  a  character  called  a 
sharp  (it)  is  prefixed  to  it.  When  a  note  is  to  be  sung,  or  played 


46 


ELOCUTION. 


flat,  a  character  called  a  flat  (b)  is  prefixed  to  it.  Sharps  and  flats 
are  generally  placed  at  the  beginning  of  a  tune,  or  strain,  immedi- 
ately after  the  cleff.  They  are  then  called  the  signature  ;  because 
they  serve  to  point  out  the  key. 

By  key  is  meant  a  scale  of  sounds,  to  the  first  of  which  all  the 
others  bear  a  certain  relation.  This  first  note  is  called  the  key- 
note, '.<•'  fundamental  note,  or  tonic.  As  each  note  of  the  diatonic 
sca.e  ( f  C  (see  No.  1),  as  well  as  its  sharp  and  flat  (see  No.  4), 
mfiy  b'j  assumed  as  a  key-note  of  a  series  of  seven,  it  follows  that 
there  are  twenty-one  major,  and  twenty-one  minor  keys.  And  as 
each  note  of  the  diatonic  scale  of  C,  as  well  as  its  sharp  and  flat, 
rnay  also  be  assumed  as  a  key-note  of  a  chromatic  series,  it  follows 
that  there  are  twenty-one  keys  in  the  chromatic  genus.  These, 
added  to  the  forty-two  keys  in  the  diatonic  genus,  make  the  whole 
number  of  keys  in  the  musical  system  amount  to  sixty-three.  Still, 
as  there  are  but  twelve  notes,  there  can  be  but  thirty-six  scales ; 
and  even  this  number  may  be  resolved  into  three  —  one  major,  one 
minor,  and  one  chromatic;  all  the  others  are  transpositions  of  the 
three  primitive  scales  into  different  ranges  of  pitch. 

The  speaking  voice,  in  good  elocution,  seldom  rises 
higher  than  a  fifth  above  the  lowest  note  of  its  com- 
pass. Supposing  the  lowest  note  which  can  be  made 
with  a  full  intonation,  to  be  F,  the  following  scheme 
will  show  the  relative  pitch  of  keys,  adapted  to  the 
expression  of  different  kinds  of  sentiments. 

KEYS    OF   THE    SPEAKING    VOICE.       (Diog.  10.) 


—  G    — 

—  F    — 
—  E    — 

Vociferation. 
Very  spirited  declamation 

.  f  Three  millions  of  people, 
I 
I  armed  in  the  holy  cause  of  liberty 

-  C     - 

—  A    — 

-  G    - 
_  F    — 

Spirited  declamation. 

Ordinary  declamation. 
Modest  declamation. 
Ordinary  narrative. 
Dignified  narrative. 
Sublime  description. 
Very  solemn  discourse. 

I,  and  in  such  a  country  as  we  possess.&c.. 

My  hrave  associates,  &c. 
Friends,  Romans,  countrymen,  &c. 
The  tree  of  deepest  root  is  found,  &c. 
He  scarce  had  ceased,  fcc. 
I  had  a  dream  which  was  not  all  a,  &c 
O  when  shall  day  dawn,  &c. 

The  majority  of  the  people  in  this  country  pitch 
their  voices  too  high,  not  only  when  they  read  and 
speak  in  public,  but  also  in  their  colloquial  intercourse, 


PITCH.  47 

We  not  unfrequently  meet  with  individuals  who  always 
speak  in  the  highest  key  of  the  natural  voice,  and  we 
occasionally  meet  with  some  who  even  speak  in  the 
ialsetto.  A  high  pitch,  in  speech,  is  unpleasant  to  a 
cultivated  ear ;  and  though  it  may  answer  in  the  busi- 
ness transactions  of  life,  it  is  totally  inadequate  tc  the 
correct  expression  of  sentiments  of  respect,  venerauon, 
dignity  and  sublimity. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INFLECTIONS.  \v  ^    Oj^ 

N FLECTIONS,  in  the  science  of 
Elocution,  are  notes  of  speech  —  notes 
that,  in  regard  to  pitch,  undergo  a  con- 
tinual change  during  the  time  of  their 
pronunciation. 

Writers  on  elocution  describe  six  dif- 
ferent notes  of  speech  ;  namely,  the  rising 
inflection,  the  falling  inflection,  the  acuto- 
grave  circumflex  inflection,  the  gravo-acute  circumflex 
inflection,  the  acuto-gro '  co-acute  circumflex  inflection, 
and  the  gravo-acuto-grave  circumflex  inflection.* 

In  the  rising  inflection,  the  movement  of  the  voice  is 
from  grave  to  acute  ;  in  the  falling  inflection,  from  acute 
to  grave ;  in  the  acuto-grave  circumflex,  from  grave  to 
acute,  thence  back  to  grave ;  in  the  gravo-acute  cir- 
cumflex, from  acute  to  grave,  thence  back  to  acute ;  in 
the  acuto-gravo-acute  circumflex,  from  grave  to  acute, 
thence  back  to  grave,  and  thence  again  to  acute  ;  in  the 

*  Mr.  Steele  calls  the  inflections  of  the  voice  accents  —  acute, 
crave,  and  circumflex.  Dr.  Rush  denominates  the  rising  inflection 
the  rising  concrete;  the  falling  inflection,  the  downward  concrete; 
the  circumflexes  he  calls  waves. 


48  ELOCUTION. 

gravo-acuto-grave  circumflex,  from   acute   to   grave, 
thence  back  to  acute,  and  thence  again  to  grave. 

In  that  part  of  this  work  which  consists  of  EXERCISES 
IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION,  these  notes  of  speech 
are  represented  by  the  acute,  grave,  and  circumflex 
accents,  thus ; 

Rising  inflection  (').     Acuto-grave  circumflex  (A). 

Falling  inflection  ().     Gravo-acute  circumflex  (v). 
Acuto-gravo-acute  circumflex  (/v). 
Gravo-acuto-grave  circumflex  (v\). 

In  reading  and  speaking,  each  syllable  has  some  one 
of  these  inflections ;  but,  for  practical  purposes,  it  is 
necessary  to  mark  those  only  which  are  emphatic. 

The  various  movements  of  the  voice,  in  song  and  speech,  may  be 
explained  in  the  following1  manner  : 

When  the  bow  is  drawn  across  an  open  string  of  the  violin,  or 
any  of  its  species,  a  sound  is  produced  of  a  uniform  pitch,  from  be- 
ginning to  end.  This  sound  is  a  pure  note  of  music,  and,  so  far  as 
pitch  is  concerned,  is  identical  with  a  note  of  song.  When  the 
bow  is  drawn  across  the  same  string,  while  the  centre  of  the  string 
is  pressed  down  with  the  finger,  a  sound  is  produced  similar  to  that 
of  the  open  string,  but  an  octave  higher.  The  intermediate  notes 
of  the  diatonic  scale  may  be  produced  by  pressing  down  the  string, 
at  the  proper  places,  and  drawing  the  bow  across  it. 

When  a  string  of  the  violin  is  pressed  down  by  the  finger,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  finger  is  made  to  slide  upon  it  towards  the 
bridge  of  the  instrument,  during  the  drawing  of  the  bow,  a  sound  is 
produced  which  gradually  increases  in  acuteness  from  beginning 
to  end.  When  the  finger  is  made  to  slide  in  the  opposite  direction, 
during  the  drawing  of  the  bow,  a  sound  is  produced  which  gradu- 
ally increases  in  gravity  during  its  prolongation.  When  the  finger 
is  made  to  slide  towards  the  bridge,  and  thence  back  again,  during 
the  drawing  of  the  bow,  a  simple  circumflex  note  is  produced. 
When  the  finger  is  made  to  slide  towards  the  bridge,  thence  back 
again,  and  thence  again  towards  the  bridge,  during  the  drawing  of 
the  bow,  a  compound  circumflex  note  is  produced. 

Other  varieties  of  the  slide  might  be  given,  but  these  are  suffi- 
cient to  answer  the  purpose  of  explanation. 

"The  slide  is  a  grace  of  much  simplicity  and  beauty,  evidently 
drawn  from  nature.  It  expresses  the  most  tender  arid  affectionate 
emotions:  we  hear  it  in  those  little  gusts  of  passion  which  mothers 
use  in  caressing  their  infants;  it  is  one  of  the  most  endearing  tones 
in  the  language  of  nature. 


PITCH.  49 

"  The  portamento,  or  carriage  of  the  voice,  as  the  Italians  term 
it,  is  an  easy  mode  of  sliding  from  one  tone  to  another.  Hence 
second-rate  singers  find  it  a  convenient  method  of  encountering 
those  notes  which  lie  at  remote  and  awkward  distances.  In  some 
voices  it  is  so  fixed,  by  habit,  that  two  bars  cannot  be  sung  without 
it.  When  so  used,  it  utterly  destroys  every  pretence  to  good  sing- 
ing, by  interposing  an  effect  of  the  most  sickening  kind ;  when  used 
with  discretion,  it  adds  much  to  the  force  of  expression;  and,  in 
Madame  Caradori,  it  was  a  grace  both  tender  and  agreeable. 

"  The  violinist,  Paganini,  the  present  wonder  of  the  world,  plays 
an  entire  cantabile*  upon  one  string,  sliding  through  all  the  inter- 
vals with  a  single  finger  —  the  effect  of  which  is  so  plaintive,  and 
desolate,  as  to  move  his  audience  to  tears.  Vellnti,  the  first  singing- 
master  of  the  age,  uses  this  grace  with  incomparable  beauty ;  in  his 
voice  it  imparts  a  tenderness  not  to  be  described."! 

The  sliding  notes  above  described  are  analagous  to  drawling1 
notes  of  speech.  Speech,  to  be  natural,  requires  each  syllable  to 
be  uttered  with  a  certain  degree  of  force.  This  force  is  always  in 
proportion  to  the  length  of  the  syllable.  A  syllable  is  drawled 
when  it  is  pronounced  with  inadequate  force  —  in  other  words,  with 
force  less  than  that  which  constitutes  the  minimum  degree  of  natu- 
ral speech. 

The  extent  of  the  concrete  intervals  of  the  notes  of 
speech,  is  various  under  various  circumstances.  A 
rising  inflection  may  be  carried  through  the  whole 
compass  of  the  voice.  But,  in  the  most  energetic  in- 
terrogation, the  voice  seldom  rises  higher  than  an  oc- 
tave; though  sometimes  it  extends  to  a  tenth,  or  a 
twelfth.  The  smallest  concrete  interval  does  not,  per- 
haps, exceed  a  quarter  tone. 

The  concrete  intervals  of  rising  inflections  are 
greater  than  those  of  their  corresponding  falling  inflec- 
tions. This  may  be  illustrated  by  pronouncing  the 
letter  a  interrogatively  and  affirmatively,  several  times, 
with  increasing  energy,  making  the  intervals  of  each 
succeeding  pair  greater  than  those  of  the  preceding,  as 
shown  by  the  following  diagram : 


*  CANTABILE,  a  term  applied  to  movements  intended  to  be  per- 
formed  in  a  graceful,  elegant,  and  melodious  style.  —  Busby's  Die- 
tionary  of  Music. 

f  GARDINER'S  Music  OF  NATURE,  p.  164-5,  London  edition. 
5  D 


ELOCUTION. 


K I  SIN  0     AND     FALLING      INFLECTIONS,     THROUGH     VARIOUS 
INTERVALS    OF    PITCH.       (Didg.  11.) 


T~T 


i=t 


a ?  a.     a ?  a.     a?  a.      a?  a.     a?    a.     a  ?   a. 

In  the  above  diagram,  each  falling  inflection  com- 
mences in  a  lower  degree  of  pitch  than  that  in  which 
its  corresponding  rising  inflection  terminates.  Should 
a  falling  inflection  be  made  to  extend  through  the  same 
interval  as  its  corresponding  rising  inflection,  it  would 
be  a  drawling  note,  and  not  a  pure  note  of  speech. 

Falling  inflections  may  be  uttered  with  greater  force 
than  rising  inflections.  This  is  shown,  in  Diag.  11,  by 
the  relative  widths  of  the  notes. 

Rising  inflections  are  far  more  numerous  than  fall- 
ing inflections :  the  former  constitute  the  main  body 
of  oral  language,  while  the  latter  are  employed  for  the 
purposes  of  emphasis,  and  in  the  formation  of  cadences. 
Rising  inflections  are  often  emphatic ;  but  their  empha- 
sis is  weaker  than  that  of  falling  inflections. 

The  circumflexes  are  used  for  the  purposes  of  em- 
phasis. The  acuto-grave  circumflex,  when  carried 
through  a  wide  interval,  is  employed  for  the  expression 
of  irony  and  scorn.*  When  the  circumflexes  are  pro- 
perly introduced,  they  are  very  expressive.  These 
movements  of  the  voice,  however,  are  seldom  required ; 
when  improperly  employed,  they  affect  the  ear  of!  a 
good  reader  as  unpleasantly  as  the  too  frequent  use  of 
the  portamento  does  that  of  a  good  musician. 

*  " The  circumflexes,  acuto-grave"  says  Mr.  Steele,  " are  cha- 
racteristic of  the  Irish  tone ;  and  the  circumflexes,  gravo-acute,  are 
characteristic  of  the  Scottish  tone."  —  (See  Steele's  Prosodia  Ra- 
tionalis.) 


PITCH.  51 

Writers  on  Elocution  have  given  numerous  rules  for 
the  regulation  of  inflections ;  but  most  of  these  rules  are 
better  calculated  to  make  bad  readers  than  good  ones. 
Those  founded  on  the  construction  of  sentences  might, 
perhaps,  do  credit  to  a  mechanic,  but  they  certainly  do 
none  to  an  elocutionist. 

The  subject  is  of  such  a  nature  that  it  would  be 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  give  rules  for  the  regula- 
tion of  all  the  inflections  of  the  voice,  in  reading  and 
speaking;  and,  as  any  rule  on  this  part  of  elocution 
must  necessarily  be  limited  in  its  application,  I  have 
thought  proper  to  dispense  with  them  altogether.  This 
work,  however,  does  not  leave  the  reader  without  a 
guide :  in  the  practical  part  of  it,  numerous  examples 
are  given,  which,  I  trust,  will  have  a  tendency  to  form 
a  correct  taste.  When  the  student  shall  have  acquired 
a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  elocution,  he  will  have 
no  occasion  for  rules. 

The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  a  falling  inflec- 
tion gives  more  importance  to  a  word  than  a  rising  in- 
flection. Hence  it  should  never  be  employed  merely 
for  the  sake  of  variety ;  but  for  emphasis  and  cadences. 
Neither  should  a  rising  inflection  be  used  for  the  sake 
of  mere  "  harmony"  where  a  falling  inflection  would 
better  express  the  meaning  of  the  author. 

The  sense  should,  in  all  cases,  determine  the  direc- 
tion of  inflections.  Hence  the  absurdity  of  the  term 
"  harmonic  inflection"  as  employed  by  Walker  and  his 
disciples — an  inflection  which,  for  the  sake  of  harmony. 
takes  a  direction  contrary  to  that  required  by  the  sense  : 
If  a  sentence  is  pronounced  so  as  to  bring  out  the 
sense  in  the  most  forcible  manner,  all  the  inflections 
must  necessarily  be  harmonic,  or,  more  correctly  speak- 
ing, melodic.*  Every  modification  of  the  voice,  which 
is  not  compatible  with  the  sentiment,  weakens  the  force 
of  the  elocution  by  drawing  off  the  attention  of  the 
hearer  from  the  sense  to  the  sound. 


See  the  note  at  the  bottom  of  page  52. 


ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MELODY. 

E  L  O  D  Y  is  a  series  of  simple 
sounds,  emanating  from  the 
voice,  or  an  instrument,  so 
varied  in  pitch  as  to  produce 
a  pleasing  effect  upon  the  ear. 
The  series  of  graphic  notes  by 
which  these  sounds  are  repre- 
sented, is  also  called  melody. 
Melody  is  distinguished  from  harmony  by  not  necessarily  includ- 
ing a  combination  of  parts.  The  term  harmony,  as  employed  in 
the  science  of  music,  signifies  a  union  of  melodies,  a  succession  of 
combined  sounds,  moving  at  consonant  intervals,  according  to  the 
laws  of  modulation.* 

NOTATION  is  the  graphic  representation  of  a  melody — 
in  other  words,  the  expression  of  a  melody  by  written 
characters. 

INTONATION  is  the  act  of  sounding  the  notes  of  a  me- 
lody, either  with  the  voice,  or  an  instrument.  When 
each  note  is  produced  in  its  proper  degree  of  pitch,  the 
intonation  is  true ;  when  the  intervals  are  not  observed 
with  exactness,  the  intonation  is  false.  Correct  into- 
nation, in  speech,  is  highly  important ;  in  song,  and  in- 
strumental music,  it  is  indispensable ;  for,  if  the  intona- 
tion is  false,  melody  loses  its  charms,  and  harmony 
becomes  discord. 

The  melody  of  speech  is  founded  on  sense  ;  that  of 
song,  generally,  on  sound.  Words  containing  opposite 

*  The  term  harmonious  is  correctly  employed  when  applied  to 
two  or  more  sounds  whose  union  is  consonant,  or  agreeable;  it  is 
incorrectly  employed  when  applied  to  the  notes  of  a  single  melody, 
as  is  done  by  some  authors,  who  confound  it  with  the  word  melo* 
dious. 


PITCH.  53 

sentiments  may  be  sung  to  the  same  air,  with  effects 
equally  good,  if  the  force  and  time  be  properly  varied. 
Tnus,  if  the  two  songs,  March  to  the  Battle  Field,  and 
Oft  in  the  Stilly  Night,  be  sung  to  the  same  air —  the 
former  with  great  force,  and  in  quick  time  —  the  latter 
with  diminished  force,  and  in  slow  time,  there  will  be 
as  much  difference  of  expression  between  them  as  there 
is  between  that  of  joy  and  sorrow.*  But  speech  is  not 
so  accommodating.  Here  every  sentence  must  not 
only  have  its  appropriate  tune,  but  the  tune  must  be 
properly  pitched. 

The  melody  of  song  is  graduated  on  a  scale  whose 
degrees  are  as  definite  as  those  of  the  scale  of  Gunter. 
But  the  melody  of  speech  is  not  formed  with  such  ma- 
thematical exactness  —  it  has  no  scale  of  determinate 
degrees.  Hence  it  is  difficult  to  represent  it  graphi- 
cally —  to  give  to  each  note 

"  A  local  habitation  and  a  name." 

But  even  if  an  exact  notation  of  the  melody  of  speech 
should  be  given,  it  is  doubtful  whether  it  would  be  of 
much  practical  importance  to  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, as  none  but  a  Paganini  would  be  able  to  read  it. 
Such  a  notation,  however,  is  a  desideratum  —  it  would 
be  highly  interesting  to  the  philosopher ;  and  I  would 
advise  all  elocutionists  who  have  a  good  ear  for  music, 
and  can  perform  on  stringed  instruments  of  the  violin 
species,  to  direct  their  attention  to  the  subject.f 

For  practical  purposes,  however,  it  is  not  essential 
to  present  every  syllable  in  speech  under  its  proper 
note,  as  is  done  in  song :  it  is  only  necessary  to  give  a 
notation  of  the  relative  pitch  of  the  emphatic  syllables. 

*  The  reader  must  not  infer  that  I  entertain  the  opinion  that  in 
pong  melody  cannot  be  adapted  to  sentiment.  I  believe  that  if  the 
composers  of  music  were  elocutionists,  they  would  always  construct 
their  melodies  with  reference  to  the  sentiments  to  be  expressed. 

f  Any  essays  on  this  subject  by  one  who  cannot  perform  on  a 
musical  instrument,  must  o»-ove  entirely  abortive. 

5* 


ft4  ELOCUTION. 

Such  a  notation  may  be  read  by  those  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  music  whatever,  and,  consequently,  does 
not  require  the  aid  of  a  Paganini.  Besides,  if  the  rela- 
tive pitch  of  the  heavy,  or  emphatic  syllables,  and  their 
inflections,  are  given,  the  light,  or  unemphatic  sylla- 
bles will  naturally  take  their  proper  degrees  of  eleva- 
tion. 

The  series  of  notes  by  which  the  relative  pitch,  and 
inflections  of  the  emphatic  syllables  are  represented, 
is  denominated  an  emphasis  melody.  The  emphasis 
melodies  are  written  on  four  horizontal,  parallel  lines. 
These  lines  are  called  the  staff  of  speech,  in  contradis- 
tinction to  the  staffof  music,  which  consists  of  Jive  hori- 
zontal, parallel  lines,  and  the  intermediate  spaces. 

"Ye  are  the  things  that  tower,  that  shine,  whose 
smile  makes  glad,  whose  frown  is  terrible." 

In  the  above  sentence  there  are  four  emphatic  points, 
which  are  represented  by  the  following 

EMPHASIS    MELODY.       (DlOg.  12.) 

f4CT 

I  o  

STAFF  OF  SPEECH.. 


PITCH-NOTE  LINE. 


tower,      shine,    glad,     terrible. 

Each  note  in  the  above  diagram  has  the  falling  inflec- 
tion, and  no  two  have  the  same  radical  pitch.  There 
is  a  gradual  increase  in  the  size  of  the  notes  from  the 
first  to  the  last,  \vhich  represents  a  gradual  increase  of 
force,  forming  a  sort  of  climax. 

In  that  part  of  this  work  which  consists  of  EXER- 
CISES IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION,  the  notes  of  the 
emphasis  melodies  are  represented  by  graphic  inflec- 
tions placed  at  different  degrees  of  elevation,  thus : 

"  Ye  are  the  things  that  tower,  that  shine^  whose 
«mile  makes  glad',  whose  frown  is  terrible." 

In  reading  and  speaking  there  is  one  note  which 


PITCH.  55 

predominates ;  and  in  correct  reading  and  speaking,  the 
pitch  of  this  note  is  always  in  accordance  with  the 
sentiment.  This  predominant,  leading,  or  pitch-note 
of  speech,  is  written  on  the  second  line  of  the  staff, 
counting  from  below.  To  render  the  pitch-line  con- 
spicuous, it  is  made  heavier  than  the  other  lines  of  the 
staff.  (See  Diag.  12.)  In  the  EXERCISES  IN  READING 
AND  DECLAMATION,  the  pitch-note  is  represented  by  the 
graphic  inflection  which  commences  at  the  centre  of 
the  body  of  the  letter.  (See  the  word  shine,  in  the 
foregoing  example.)  When  one  reads  altogether  in  the 
pitch-note,  the  reading  is  monotonous ;  when  the  voice 
is  properly  varied  in  pitch,  it  occasionally  rises  a  de- 
gree, or  two  degrees  above,  or  descends  a  degree  below 
it,  as  represented  by  the  staff. 

The  reader  must  not  conclude  that  the  melody  of 
speech  is  confined  to  four  degrees  of  pitch,  whose  inter- 
vals are  as  determinate  as  those  of  the  diatonic  scale. 
The  intervals  between  the  several  notes  of  an  empha- 
sis melody  vary  according  to  circumstances.  In  ener- 
getic declamation,  and  in  interrogative  and  exclamatory 
sentences,  they  may  be  said  to  be  at  their  maximum ; 
in  solemn,  and  in  plaintive  discourse,  at  their  minimum. 
Neither  must  the  reader  conclude  that  the  melody  of 
speech  consists  solely  of  emphasis  melodies.  These  form, 
as  it  were,  the  grand  outlines  of  the  picture,  and  the 
notes  of  the  syllables  not  included  in  the  emphasis 
melodies,  constitute  the  filling  up  and  the  shading  of  it. 

The  graphic  notes  of  song  represent  absolute,  as  well 
as  relative  pitch.  But  as  the  graphic  notes  of  an  em- 
phasis melody  of  speech  denote  relative  pitch  only,  two 
emphasis  melodies  similarly  constructed,  though  differ- 
ent in  their  relative  intervals,  may  be  represented  by 
the  same  series  of  graphic  notes. 

In  reading  emphasis  melodies,  beginners  are  apt  to 
make  the  intervals  too  great.  Care  should  be  taken 
to  avoid  this  fault,  or  the  melody  will  be  caricatured. 
A  little  practice,  under  a  good  teacher,  will  enable 


56  ELOCUTION. 

almost  any  one,  who  is  not  insensible  to  the  changes 
of  pitch,  to  observe  the  proper  intervals  with  tolerable 
accuracy.  And  as  these  melodies  are  founded  in  the 
nature  of  the  subject,  those  who  have  a  taste  for  elocu- 
tion will  scarcely  require  a  teacher,  for  they  will  read 
them,  as  it  were,  by  intuition. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MODULATION. 

'ODULATION  is  a  chang- 
ing  of  the  pitch-note  to  a 
higher  or  lower  degree  of  ele- 
vation —  in  other  words,  it 
is  the  process  of  changing  the 
key,  or  of  passing  from  one 
key  to  another.  This  change 
is  sometimes  made  to  a  proxi- 
mate key ;  at  other  times,  a  bold  and  abrupt  transition 
to  a  remote  key  is  necessary  to  produce  the  desired 
effect.  Modulation  is  generally  attended  with  a  change 
of  force,  or  time;  and,  not  unfrequently,  with  a  change 
of  both.  There  is  not  a  more  important  requisite  in 
Elocution  —  nothing  which  contributes  more  to  the 
pleasure  of  an  audience  —  nothing  which  gives  stronger 
proof  that  an  orator  is  master  of  his  art,  than  a  well- 
regulated  and  expressive  modulation.  Modulation, 
however,  should  never  be  resorted  to  for  the  sake  of 
mere  variety  —  it  should  always  be  subservient  to  the 
sense;  for  it  is  the  province  of  modulation  to  mark 
changes  of  sentiment,  changes  in  the  train  of  thought, 
and  parenthetical  clauses. 

Under  ordinary  circumstances,  the  various  modula- 
tions of  the  voice,  in  reading  and  speaking,  may  be 
represented  by  a  staff  of  four  lines.  That  this  staff 
may  not  be  confounded  with  the  staff  of  melody,  de- 


PITCH. 


57 


scribed  in  the  preceding  chapter,  it  is  made  of  lines 
composed  of  dots,  and  called  the  staff  of  modulation. 
The  lines  of  this  staff,  like  those  of  the  staff  of  melody, 
are  counted  from  below  upward.  The  second  line  is 
called  the  pitch-note  line  of  the  staff  of  modulation. 

A  series  of  modulations,  as  represented  by  the  fol- 
lowing diagram,  might,  very  appropriately,  be  termed 
a  melody  of  melodies. 

A    SERIES   OF    MODULATIONS.       (Diag.  13.) 


L 

J» 

<? 

^ 

i 

d 

! 

This  diagram  shows  the  modulations  of  the  voice  in 
the  correct  reading  of  the  following  extract  from  0s- 
sian's  Address  to  the  Sun. 

(a)  2The  moon  herself  is  lost  in  heaven ;  |  (b)  3but 
thou  art  for  ever  the  same,  |  (c)  4rejoicing  in  the  bright- 
ness of  thy  course.  |  (d)  lWhen  the  world  is  dark  with 
tempests,  |  (e)  2when  thunder  rolls,  and  lightning  flies, 
|  (/)  3thou  lookest  in  thy  beauty  from  the  clouds,  | 
(g)  4and  laughest  at  the  storm.  |  (h)  2But,  to  Ossian, 
thou  lookest  in  vain. 

Staff  a,  in  Diagram  13,  is  designed  for  the  first  sec- 
tion in  the  above  extract ;  staff  6,  for  the  second  sec- 
tion, and  so  on.  The  transition  from  c  to  d  is  abrupt  • 
also  that  from  g  to  h.  The  pitch-note  of  staff  a  is 
identical  with  that  of  staff  e  and  that  of  staff  h,  and 
corresponds  to  the  pitch-note  of  modulation. 

In  that  part  of  this  work  which  consists  of  EXER- 
CISES IN  READING  AND  DECLAMATION,  the  modulations 
of  the  voice  are  indicated  by  small  numerals  prefixed 


58  ELOCUTION. 

to  the  words  where  the  transitions  should  take  place. 
These  numerals  are  1,  2,  3,  4,  and  represent,  respec- 
tively, the  first,  second,  third,  and  fourth  line  of  the 
staff  of  modulation.  This  is  shown  in  the  preceding  ex- 
tract from  Ossian's  Address  to  the  Sun.  No.  2  is  pre- 
fixed to  the  first  section,  to  show  that  this  section  is  to 
be  read  in  the  pitch-note  of  modulation  ;  No.  3  is  pre- 
fixed to  the  second  section,  to  show  that  this  section 
should  be  read  in  the  third  degree  of  the  staff  of  modu- 
lation ;  No.  4  is  prefixed  to  the  third  section,  to  show 
that  this  section  should  be  read  in  the  fourth  degree 
of  the  staff  of  modulation ;  No.  1  is  prefixed  to  the 
fourth  section,  to  show  that  this  section  should  be 
read  in  the  first  degree  of  the  staff  of  modulation  ;  and 
so  on.  (See  the  Extract,  and  Diag.  13.) 

Some  public  speakers,  who  are  ignorant  of  the  principles  of  Elo- 
cution, but  who,  nevertheless,  are  considered  by  the  vulgar  as 
great  orators,  modulate  their  voices  in  the  most  erratic  and  hyper- 
bolical manner.  I  once  heard  a  clergyman  pronounce  the  follow- 
\ng  sentence  in  the  way  which  I  shall  describe : 

"  While  God's  omniscient  eye  passes  from  seat  to  seat,  j  and 
ranges  throughout  the  house,  |  he  beholds  what  is  passing  in  every 
heart." 

The  first  section,  while  God's  omniscient  eye  passes  from  seal 
to  seat,  he  pronounced  in  the  first  degree  above  the  lowest  note  of 
his  voice ;  the  second  section,  and  ranges  throughout  the  house,  he 
uttered  with  great  force,  in  the  highest  note  of  his  natural  voice; 
the  third  section,  he  beholds  what  is  passing  in  every  heart,  he 
pronounced  with  a  mixture  of  vocality  and  aspiration,  in  the  lowest 
note  of  his  voice.  Such  wild  and  extravagant  transitions,  though 
they  may  astonish  the  ignorant,  «« cannot  but  make  the  judicious 
grieve."  The  manner  in  which  the  speaker  pronounced  the  first 
and  third  section  in  the  above  sentence,  is  good ;  and  had  he  pro- 
nounced the  second  section  in  the  same  pitch  and  force  with  the 
first,  his  elocution  would  have  been  faultless. 

There  are  other  public  speakers  who  never  modulate  their  voices, 
however  necessary  it  may  be  to  give  proper  expression  to  their  sen- 
timents ;  and,  what  is  worse,  they  generally  pitch  their  voices  a 
third,  a  fifth,  or  an  octave  too  high.  I  once  listened  to  an  excellent 
discourse,  from  a  very  learned  man,  which,  however,  was  nearly 
lost  upon  the  audience  from  the  disgusting  manner  in  which  it  was 
delivered.  The  lecturer  pitched  his  voice  an  octave  too  high,  and 


FORCE. 


59 


spoke  an  hour  and  a  half,  without  any  variation  in  pitch,  force,  or 
time ;  and,  what  rendered  his  delivery  still  more  offensive,  every 
syllable  was  marred  with  an  intolerable  drawling.  Such  elocution 
i.s  discreditable  to  any  man  who  speaks  in  public,  and  ought  not  to 
be  tolerated  by  an  educated  community. 


SECTION  III. 


FORCE. 


O  R  C  E  is  the  degree  of  the  loud- 
ness  of  sounds.  It  is  also  the 
degree  of  exertion  with  which 
sounds  are  made. 

A  lax  division  of  force  is  into 
loud  and  soft  :  those  sounds  are 
called  loud,  which  are  made 
with  greater  effort  than  the  or- 

dinary tones  of  conversation  ;  and  those  are  called  soft, 

which  are  made  with  less  effort. 

Some  use  the  terms  high  and  low,  as  synonymous  with  loud  and 
soft.  But  this  is  an  improper  application  of  these  words.  High 
and  low  regard  the  acuteness  and  gravity  of  sounds  only,  and  not 
their  force  :  a  sound  may  be  high  and  soft,  as  well  as  high  and  loud  — 
a  sound  may  also  be  low  and  loud,  as  well  as  low  and  soft. 

For  convenience,  force  is  divided  into  nine  degrees. 
These  degrees  are  expressed  by  the  following  abbre- 
viations : 


ppp  (pianissimo),   . 

pp  (piit,  piano}, 

p  (piano}, 

mp  (mezzo  piano),  . 

m  (mezzo), 

mf  (mezzo  forte),  . 

/  (forte) 

ff  (piu  forte), 

fff  (fortissimo),  .. 


.  as  soft  as  possible. 

more  soft,  very  soft. 

soft. 
.  middling  soft,  rather  soft. 

half,  middle,  mean. 
.  middling  loud,  rather  loud. 

loud. 

more  loud,  very  loud. 
.  as  loud  as  possible. 


ELOCUTION. 


The  nine  degrees  of  force  are  represented  by  Diag. 
1 4.  The  upper  line  of  the  diagram  contains  notes  of 
song ;  the  lower  one,  notes  of  speech. 

FORCE,  OR  STRESS.     (Diag.  14.) 


2 

PP 


4 

mp 


6 
mf 


8 
// 


Force  may  be  considered  in  reference  to  its  applica- 
tion to  sentences  and  paragraphs,  as  well  as  in  refe- 
rence to  its  application  to  syllables.  The  application 
of  force  to  sentences  may  be  varied  in  the  following 
manner : 

1.  A  sentence   may  be   pronounced  with   uniform 
force. 

2.  A  sentence  may  be  pronounced  with  a  gradual 
diminution  of  force. 

3.  A  sentence  may  be  pronounced  with  a  gradual 
increase  of  force. 

4.  The  first  part  of  a  sentence  may  be  pronounced 
with  a  gradual  increase  of  force,  and  the  second  part, 
with  a  gradual  diminution  of  force. 

5.  The  first  part  of  a  sentence  may  be  pronounced 
with  a  gradual  diminution  of  force,  and  the  second  part, 
with  a  gradual  increase  of  force. 

Force,  however,  is  generally  applied  to  sentences  in 
a  more  irregular  manner.  It  should  always  be  varied 
according  to  the  varying  demands  of  sentiment. 

Force,  applied  to  a  note,  or  syllable,  is  denominated 
stress. 

Radical  stress  is  the  application  of  force  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  note,  or  syllable ;  it  corresponds  to  the 
diminuendo,  in  music. 

Median  stress  is  the  application  of  force  at  the  middle 
of  a  note,  or  syllable ;  it  corresponds  to  the  swell,  or 
crescendo  et  diminuendo,  in  music. 


FORCE. 


61 


Final  stress  is  the  application  of  force  at  the  end  of 
a  note,  or  syllable ;  it  corresponds  to  the  crescendo,  or 
ratner,  rinforzando,*  in  music. 

Explosive  stress  is  the  abrupt  application  of  force  to 
a  note,  or  syllable;  it  corresponds  to  theforzando,  in 
music.f 

Diagram  15. 


d?         H.  d?  &.  d?         a. 

Tremour  is  iterated  stress  on  a  note,  or  syllable. 
Examples  of  the  tremour  are  given  in  the  following 
diagram : 


(Diag.  16.) 


d?    it. 


The  tremour,  in  all  its  forms,  may  be  illustrated  on 
the  violin  by  sounding  the  notes  with  a  vibratory  mo- 
tion of  the  bow. 

Great  attention  should  be  paid  to  the  subject  of 
force,  as  much  of  what  is  called  expression,  depends  on 
some  modification  of  this  attribute  of  the  voice.  In- 

*  RINFORZANDO  is  a  sudden  increase  of  sound  from  softness  to 
loud  ness. 

f  NATHAN,  in  his  Essay  on  the  History  and  Theory  of  Music, 
has  given  diagrams  representing  sixty  modifications  of  force  appli- 
cable to  the  voice  of  song. 
6 


62  ELOCUTION. 

deed,  force  may  be  considered  the  light  and  shade  of 
elocution. 

"  Mr.  Alison  observes,  that  loud  sounds  are  connected  with  ideas 
of  power  and  danger;  and  that  many  objects  in  nature,  which  have 
such  qualities,  are  distinguished  by  such  sounds.  On  the  contrary, 
soft  sounds  are  connected  with  ideas  of  gentleness  and  dalicacy. 
The  contrasts  produced  by  the  different  degrees  offeree  with  which 
sounds  are  uttered,  form  the  most  prominent  effects  of  musical  ex- 
pression. The  rushing  of  the  fortissimo  brings  with  it  dread  and 
alarm ;  but  in  the  pianissimo,  the  chiaroscuro*  of  the  art,  we  feel 
the  opposite  sensation.  The  indistinctness  of  sounds  apparently 
removes  them  to  a  distance  —  like  the  faint  touches  in  painting, 
they  seem  to  retire  from  us.  Upon  this  principle,  the  ventriloquist 
deceives  the  ear,  by  directing  the  attention  to  a  point  from  which 
the  voice  may  be  supposed  to  proceed ;  and  effects  the  deception  by 
reducing  it  to  the  exact  degree  of  softness  that  it  would  seem  to 
possess  had  it  really  proceeded  from  the  spot." 

CRESCENDO   AND    DIMINUENDO. 

"  What  is  more  alarming  than  the  gradual  increase  of  a  mighty 
sound,  when  it  pours  upon  the  ear  from  a  distance ;  —  whether  it 
proceeds  from  the  roar  of  a  multitude,  or  the  raging  of  a  storm,  the 
auditory  sense  is  overwhelmed,  and  the  mind  is  filled  with  imagi- 
nary danger !  When  the  increasing  force  accumulates  to  excessive 
loudness,  the  vibrations  become  too  great  for  the  soul  to  bear. 
There  is  also  a  sublimity  in  the  gradual  decrease  of  sounds. 

*'  It  is  equally  sublime  to  listen  to  sounds  when  they  retire  from 
us.  Handel  has  aimed  at  this  poetic  effect  in  the  '  Messiah,'  when 
he  pictures  the  ascent  of  the  heavenly  host,  giving  an  idea  of  theii 
distance  and  flight. 

"There  is  no  accomplishment  in  the  art  of  singing  more  fascinat- 
ing than  the  swelling  and  dying  away  of  the  voice ;  —  when  used 
with  taste  and  judgment,  it  never  fails  to  delight  us.  The  perform- 
ance of  the  '  Miserere,'  in  the  Sixtine  Chapel,  in  Rome,  so  often 
described  by  travellers,  owes  its  shadowy  effect  to  this  approaching 
and  retiring  of  the  sounds.  Farinelli  moved  his  audience  to  a  state 
of  ecstasy  by  the  manner  in  which  he  commenced  his  famous  song, 
1  Son  qual  nave'  '  the  first  note  of  which  was  taken  with  such  deli- 
cacy, swelled  by  minute  degrees  to  such  an  amazing  volume,  and 
afterwards  diminished  in  the  same  manner  to  a  mere  point,  that  it 
was  applauded  for  five  minutes.'  Beethoven  is  the  only  composer 
who  has  introduced  this  effect  into  choral  music :  we  find  it  applied 
at  the  termination  of  some  of  the  choruses  in  his  posthumous  Mass; 
—  here  the  voices  alone  pour  upon  the  ear  with  an  effect  like  tho 
swelling  and  dying  away  of  the  storm. 

*  CHIAROSCURO  (Italian),  the  light  of  a  shade  of  a  picture. 


TIME. 


63 


PORZANDO. 

"  Explosive  force  forms  a  strong  feature  in  the  character  of  mo- 
dern music ;  we  never  find  it  expressed  in  any  author  before  the 
time  of  Haydn.  It  may  be  described  as  a  forcible  expression  of 
sound  which  is  no  sooner  uttered  than  it  drops  into  the  utmost  de- 
gree of  softness.  It  has  its  origin  in  the  ebullition  of  our  passions. 
We  hear  it  in  the  expressions  of  joy,  rage,  despair,  &c.  Indeed 
it  is  natural  to  persons  under  any  violent  emotion.  It  properly 
belongs  to  the  sublime,  although  it  may  be  so  burlesqued  as  to  as- 
sume a  ridiculous  character.  Like  all  other  forcible  expressions, 
its  meaning  will  depend  upon  the  situation  and  manner  in  which  it 
is  used."* 


SECTION  IV. 

TIME. 

I  M  E  is  the  measure  of  sounds  in 
regard  to  their  duration. 

Time,  in  song,  and  instrumental 
music,  is  divided  into  equal  mea- 
sures by  rhythmical  pulsation  —  in 
other  words,  by  a  periodical  return 

of  similar   accents.f      In  graphic 

music,  these  measures  are  rendered  conspicuous  to  the 

eye  by  vertical  bars,  as  in  the  following  line  of  poetry  : 

|  Hail  to  the  |  chief  who  in  |  triumph  ad-  |  vances.  J 

In  speech  there  is  also  a  return  of  similar  accents; 
but  they  do  not  always  occur  at  regular  intervals  of 

*  GARDINER'S  Music  OF  NATURE. 

f  It  is  rhythmical  pulsation  which  enables  a  band  of  musicians 
to  perform  in  concert.  It  is  this  also  which  enables  a  company  of 
soldiers  to  march  synchronously,  and  which  governs  the  movements 
of  the  feet  in  dancing. 


64 


ELOCUTION. 


time.     Hence  the  rhythm  of  speech,  like  its  melody,  is 
more  or  less  irregular. 

The  time  of  a  note,  or  syllable,  is  called  quantity. 
The  time  of  a  rest  is  also  called  quantity ;  because 
rests,  as  well  as  notes,  are  a  constituent  of  rhythm 
Hence  the  characters  used  for  the  expression  of  quan- 
tity, are  either  of  sound  or  silence.  The  former  are 
called  notes ;  the  latter,  rests.  These  characters,  and 
their  relative  lengths,  are  as  follows  : 


N 

OTES. 

c=>    = 

0   = 

r  = 

i 

i  = 

I- 

4 
2 
1 

I 
t 

i 

•ff 

RESTS. 

4 
2 
1 
| 
1 

1 

Crotchet  

Crotchet  Rest  .  .  . 

t 

Semiquaver  Rest. 

.  ..  .  .      ( 

«i 

Demi-Semiquaver  . 

Demi-Semiquaver 

1 
Rest.    3     = 

Hence,  a  semibreve  is  equal  to  two  minims;  equal  to 
four  crotchets  ;  equal  to  eight  quavers,  <fcc. 

A  dot  following  a  note,  or  rest,  increases  its  length 
one-half  —  in  other  words,  increases  its  length  in  the 
ratio  of  2  to  3.  Thus,  a  dotted  semibreve  (  Q*  )  is 
equal  to  a  semibreve  and  a  minim  (&p),  or  to  three 
minims  (pflP);  a  dotted  minim  (P')9  to  a  minim  and 
a  crotchet  ,  or  to  three  crotchets  ?  ;  and 


so  on. 

There  are  two  general  modes  of  time  —  common  and 
triple.  In  common  time  each  measure  is  divisible  by 
2  ;  in  triple  time  each  measure  is  divisible  by  3. 

There  are  several  varieties  of  each  of  these  modes 
of  time.  When  a  piece  is  in  common  time,  and  each 
measure  contains  two  quavers,  or  their  equivalent,  the 


TIME.  65 

figures  f  are  prefixed  to  the  words,  or  the  music ;  when 
each  measure  contains  two  crotchets,  the  figures  4  are 
prefixed ;  and  when  each  measure  contains  four  crotch- 
ets, a  capital  C,  or  the  figures  \  are  prefixed.  When 
a  piece  is  in  triple  time,  and  each  measure  contains 
three  quavers,  the  figures  I  are  prefixed  to  the  words, 
or  the  music;  when  each  measure  contains  three  crotch- 
ets, the  figures  I  are  prefixed;  and  when  each  mea- 
sure contains  six  quavers,  the  figures  I  are  prefixed  to 
the  words,  or  the  music.  The  upper  figure,  in  each  of 
these  cases,  shows  how  many  notes  of  a  certain  descrip- 
tion there  are  in  each  measure ;  and  the  lower  figure, 
how  many  of  these  notes  are  equal  in  value  to  a  semi- 
breve. 

EXAMPLES. 

Common  Time ;    two   Quavers  in  a  Measure. 

2   i*   N   £  i  j*   r*     r*  ~i   R  i   F  i 

Oft   has     it       been  my       lot        to       mark 

/  I  /  ?/  I//;    //  l/i  I 

A      proud,    con  -  ceited,        talking    spark. 
Common  Time  ;  two  Crotchets  in  a  Measure. 

!/  IJ   JUI-ln  J  I   J.  /  U.J  U. 

The     curfew    tolls  —  the      knell  of       parting     day. 

Triple  time  ;  three  Quavers  in  a  Measure. 

3   h   I     h     £     M      h    *i   h   I     h    **   &   fc   I     hfc 
e  J     I   J.    •*   J   I     J.    *!  J     i    J     -i  /*  0*   I   J   »s 

The      rose  had  been  wash'd,  just    wash'd     in    a       shower. 

MOVEMENT. 

MOVEMENT  is  the  velocity  with  which  a  sentence  is 
read  or  sung,  or  a  strain  of  instrumental  music  is  played. 
The  rate  of  movement  should  be  such  as  the  senti- 
6*  * 


36  ELOCUTION. 

ment  demands.  Solemn  discourse  requires  a  slow 
movement ;  simple  narrative,  a  medium  rate  of  utter- 
ance; animated  description,  as  well  as  all  language 
expressive  of  any  sudden  passion,  as  joy,  anger,  &c.,  a 
movement  more  or  less  rapid,  according  to  the  inten- 
sity of  emotion.  In  the  science  of  music,  various  terms 
have  been  employed  to  denote  the  rate  of  movement, 
the  principal  of  which  are  the  following : 

ADAGIO, very  slow  ;  the  slowest  time. 

Largo, slow  time. 

Larghetto, .       slow,  but  not  so  slow  as  largo. 


ANDANTE,.  . 
Andantino, 
Allegretto,. 
ALLEGRO,  . . 


medium  time. 

a  little  quicker  than  andante. 

rather  quick,  but  not  so  quick  as  allegro. 

quick  time. 


Presto, very  quick. 

Prestissimo. .  as  quick  as  possible. 

Adagio,  andante  and  allegro,  are  the  three  chief  di- 
visions of  time ;  the  other  terms  mark  the  intermediate 
degrees. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing  terms,  which  mark  the 
movement,  there  are  others,  which  indicate  the  style 
of  performance.  Some  of  these  are  as  follows  : 

Affctuoso, . .  affectionate — a  soft  and  delicate  style  of  performance. 

Brilldnte,. .  shining,  sparkling  —  a  gay,  showy  style. 

Furioso,. . .  fierce,  mad  —  a  vehement  style. 

Spiritoso, . .  spirited  —  a  spirited  style. 

Sometimes  these  terms  are  used  in  connexion  with 
those  which  express  the  rate  of  movement,  thus :  — 

Allegro  con  spirito,  quick  with  spirit  —  in  a  quick  and  spirited 
manner. 

The  rate  of  movement  is  not  definitely  marked  by 
the  terms  Adagio,  Largo,  Larghetto,  &c. ;  it  may,  how- 
ever, be  designated  with  precision  by  means  of  the 

METRONOME   OF    MAELZEL. 

This  instrument  has  a  graduated  pendulum,  to  which 
is  attached  a  sliding  weight.  The  higher  this  weight 


TIME. 


67 


is  moved  upon  the  pendulum,  the          Diag.  17. 

slower  are  its  vibrations  ;  and  the 

contrary.     When  the  weight  cor- 

responds to  the  number  50,  the  vi- 

brations of  the  pendulum  are  the 

slowest;  when   it   corresponds  to 

160,  they  are  the  quickest.      All 

the   numbers  on   the    instrument 

have  reference  to  a  minute  of  time. 

Thus,  when  the  weight  is  placed 

at  50,  fifty  beats,  or  ticks,  occur 

in  a  minte  ;  when  at  60,  sixty  beats 

in  a  minute;  when   at    100,  one' 

hundred   beats  in  a  minute,  &c. 

The  engraving  in  the  margin  represents  the  instrument 

in  action. 

In  reading,  as  a  general  rule,  the  time  should  be 
marked  on  the  metronome  by  whole  measures  —  in 
other  words,  each  measure  should  correspond  to  one 
tick  of  the  instrument. 

In  music,  it  is  most  convenient  to  mark  the  time  on 
the  metronome  in  adagios,  by  quavers  ;  in  andantes,  by 
crotchets  ;  in  allegros,  by  minims  ;  and  in  prestos,  by 
whole  measures. 


EXAMPLES   OF   THE    SEVERAL   MOVEMENTS. 

In  the  following  Examples,  the  words  which  indi- 
cate the  movement  and  the  corresponding  numbers  on 
the  metronome,  are  both  employed. 

Adagio.    Metronome  60  —  two  beats  in  a  measure. 


JJ.I  J.   J*  J 

O    when  shall  day 


dawn     on  the     night  of  the     grave  1 


Largo-    Metronome  56  —  one  beat  in  a  measure. 


O      I     have 


J. 

pass'd 


mis-er-a-ble 


j 

night. 


68  ELOCUTION. 

Larghetto.    Metronome  66  —  one  beat  in  a  measure, 

\t\  J      .PI  ft  .fcl    J  1  I    J      ^  JS.I 

0  thou  that       rollest     a    •   bove,          round    as    the 

j     J*  JM  JV 

shield     of      my         fathers! 

Andante.    Metronome  76  —  one  beat  in  a  measure. 

JJ  ^  .M  J   i   J-  i   J   J  I  J.^js|  J 

1  had    a      dream      which      was   not      all       a     dream. 

Jlndantino.    Metronome  100  —  one  beat  in  a  meaeure. 

2    fci    is    fc  i   p»   r*  i    r*  ^  fc  i    v*  *  \ 

s     J*  I    J.     /»  I  J     J     I    j     *• /»  I    J.    -i  I 

The       tree      of       deepest        root        is        found 

=3j?  i  f  r  i  jr  ^i  jr  ^  i  jr 

Least      willing         still      to       quit      the        ground. 


Allegretto.    Metronome  112  —  o»e  6eat  in  a  measure. 
2          h     h 


jvj;«r  i  /  f;.-'i  ^  ;•  i  jr 

Shivering          in        thy  playful          spray. 


*  NOTE.  — The  figure  3  over  the  three  quavers  which  compose  the  first  measure, 
signifies  that  they  are  to  be  pronounced  in  the  time  of  two. 

Allegro  con  spirito.    Metronome  104  —  one  beat  in  a  measure. 

I  /•  I  J*  J*  J*l  J*    J*  J*l  jy.TI  JTq 

And     darkness    and    doubt    are     now     flying    a  -  way. 

Animato.    Metronome  100  —  one  beat  in  a  measure. 

3  i       I         £      £  I     I         M      f*     M     I     «* 
8 !      J        »K     «r   |   j        j     1     J.   y.    I   J     *] 

Sylph      of      the      blue      and        beaming      eye ! 

.M  JTJ:  I  JTJ:  I  J     j*  i  j  i  i 

The     muses'        fondest       wreaths    are       thine. 


PART  II. 

GESTURE. 


ESTURE  is  the  various  pos- 
tures and  motions  employed  in 
vocal  delivery :  as  the  postures  and 
motions  of  the  head,  face,  shoul- 
ders, trunk,  arms,  hands,  fingers, 
lower  limbs,  and  the  feet. 
Graceful  and  appropriate  ges- 
ture renders  vocal  delivery  far  more  pleasing  and  effec- 
tive. Hence  its  cultivation  is  of  primary  importance 
to  those  who  are  ambitious  of  accomplishment  in  Elo- 
cution. 


CHAPTER  I. 

POSTURES   OF   THE    BODY. 

postures  of  the  body,  with  respect  to  vocal 
delivery,  may  be  divided  intoJa^ouEaJple  and  unfavour- 
able ;  and,  the  better  to  suit  my  purpose  in  giving  their 
illustration,  I  shall  first  treat  of  the  unfavourable. 

The  most  unfavourable  posture  is  the  horizontal.  If 
a  reader  or  a  speaker  should  lie  prone,  or  supine,  he 
would  not  be  likely  to  deliver  a  discourse  with  energy 
and  effect.  I  have  never  known  an  orator  to  deliver 
a  discourse  in  the  horizontal  posture ;  but  I  have  known 
individuals  to  speak  in  public  in  postures  almost  as  in- 
appropriate. 

As  impressions  communicated  through  the  medium 
of  the  eye,  are  the  most  lasting,  two  series  of  figures  are 

(69) 


70 


ELOCUTION. 


here  introduced,  the  former  of  which  are  unfavourable, 
and  the  latter  favourable,  to  vocal  delivery. 

POSTURES   UNFAVOURABLE    TO   VOCAL   DELIVERY. 


GESTURE.  71 

POSTURES    FAVOURABLE   TO    VOCAL   DELIVERY. 


10  11  12 

DEMONSTRATING   ON    THE    BLACK-BOARD. 


Absurd  as  are  the  unfavourable  postures  on  page  70, 
I  have  known  readers  to  adopt  not  only  all  these,  but 
others  equally  inappropriate  and  ridiculous.  This  is 
too  much  the  case,  particularly  in  seminaries  for  young 


7X1  ELOCUTION. 

gentlemen,  in  a  number  of  which  it  has  fallen  to-  m  * 
lot  to  give  instruction  in  Elocution. 

The  human  mind  is  so  constituted,  that,  in  its  edu- 
cation, order  becomes  almost  indispensable.  Hence, 
any  thing  that  interrupts  methodical  instruction,  is  a 
serious  obstacle  to  the  growth  of  intellect.  Nor  is 
order  more  necessary  than  perseverance ;  consequently 
all  postures  of  the  body  which  are  calculated  for  re- 
pose, should  be  avoided  by  the  student  in  elocution. 
And  as  grace  and  dignity  are  of  primary  importance 
in  vocal  delivery,  all  postures  which  are  inconsistent 
with  these  attributes  should  also  be  avoided. 

The  erect  posture  of  the  body  is  the  best  for  vocal 
delivery ;  the  trunk  and  limbs  should  be  braced  in  pro- 
portion to  the  degree  of  energy  required  by  the  senti- 
ments to  be  delivered.  The  right  foot  should  be  from 
two  to  four  inches  in  advance  of  the  left,  and  the  toes 
turned  a  little  outwards ;  meanwhile  the  body  should 
be  principally  sustained  by  the  left  foot. 

The  next  best  is  the  erect  sitting  posture,  in  which 
the  shoulders  do  not  rest  against  the  back  of  the  seat, 
and  in  which  the  body  is  retained  in  its  proper  posi- 
tion by  muscular  action.  (See  Ornamental  Letter, 
page  11  and  16.) 

The  next  best  is  the  erect  sitting  posture  in  which 
the  shoulders  rest  against  the  back  of  the  seat. 

These  are  the  only  postures  which  are  at  all  favour- 
able to  vocal  delivery. 
t 

MANNER   OF    HOLDING    THE    BOOK. 

The  book  should  be  held  in  the  left  hand,  from  six 
to  eight  inches  from  the  body,  and  as  high  as  the  centre 
of  the  breast,  so  as  to  bring  the  face  nearly  perpendi- 
cular. It  should  not,  however,  be  held  so  high  as  to 
prevent  the  audience  from  having  a  view  of  the  reader's 
mouth,  as  his  voice  would  thereby  be  more  or  less  ob- 
structed. The  fingers  of  the  right  hand  may  take  hold 
of  the  margin  of  the  book  lightly  (see  Fig.  10,  and  Orna- 


GESTURE.  73 

mental  Letter,  page  16),  so  as  to  be  ready  to  turn  over  the 
leaves,  as  occasion  may  require ;  or  they  may  be  placed 
upon  the  page,  just  below  the  line  the  reader  is  pronounc- 
ing, to  aid  him  in  keeping  his  place ;  or,  particularly 
if  the  reader  is  pronouncing  an  original  composition, 
the  right  hand  may  be  employed  to  illustrate  and  en- 
force the  sentiments  by  appropriate  gesticulation.  (See 
Fig.  11.)  ^If  the  reader  be  a  lady,  the  right  hand  may 
support  the  left  arm.  (See  Fig.  12.)  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, advise  ladies  to  adopt  this  posture  exclusively, 
but  deem  it  not  ungraceful  for  them. 

The  eyes  should  occasionally  be  directed  from  the 

words  of  the  discourse  to  the  audience.    (See  Fig.  11.) 

^In  demons£j:ating^pn_the  black-board,  the  face,  and 

not  tfie~Tt>ack,  should  be  turned  to  the  audience.     (See 

Fig.  13  and  14.) 


CHAPTER  II. 

NOTATION    OF    GESTURE. 

want  of  a  language  for  expressing  the  different 
Nations  of  gesture  with  brevity  and  perspicuity, 
fis  the  principal  cause  of  the  general  neglect  with  which 
the  cultivation  of  this  art  has  hitherto  been  treated. 
For  this  desideratum  the  world  is  indebted  to  the  Rev. 
Gilbert  Austin,  of  London.  In  1806,  this  distinguished 
elocutionist  published  a  quarto  volume  of  six  hundred 
pages ;  and  from  that  work  I  have  taken  the  system 
of  notation  of  which  the  following  is  a  specimen : 

When  the  right  arm  is  elevated  backwards,  and  the 
left  extended  forwards,  in  a  horizontal  direction,  he 
calls  the  posture  of  the  former  elevated  backwards,  and 
notes  it  eb ;  and  the  posture  of  the  latter,  horizontal 
forwards,  and  notes  it  hf.  Now  the  abbreviations  eb 
and  hf  are  placed  over  any  word  which  requires  these 
postures  of  the  arms,  thus  :  — 

7 


74  ELOCUTION. 

eb-hf 

Jehovah's  arm 

Snatch'd  from  the  waves,  and  brings  to  me  my  son  !* 

Douglas,  Act  111 

For  an  illustration  of  these  gestures,  the  reader  is 
referred  to  the  ornamental  letter  on  page  69. 

The  original  idea  of  this  system  of  notation,  says  Mr. 
Austin,  was  suggested  by  the  labour  of  teaching  decla- 
mation in  the  usual  manner.  During  this  labour,  which 
for  many  years  constituted  a  part  of  his  duty  in  his 

frammar-school,  the  author  having  often  found  that  he 
>rgot,  on  a  following  day,  his  own  mode  of  instructing 
on  a  former,  wished  to  be  able  to  invent  some  perma- 
nent marks,  in  order  to  establish  more  uniformity  in 
his  instructions,  for  the  ease  both  of  himself  and  of  his 
pupils.  The  mode  of  instruction  is  not  so  liable  to 
change,  with  respect  to  the  expression  of  the  voice,  and 
countenance,  for  this  is  always  pointed  out  by  the  sen- 
timent. But  the  great  difficulty  lies  in  ascertaining 
and  marking  the  suitable  gesture ;  and  for  these  ob- 
vious reasons ;  because  a  language  of  gesture  was  want- 
ing, and  because  gesture  may  be  infinitely  varied,  and 
yet,  perhaps,  be  equally  just.  To  leave  the  pupil  to 
choose  for  himself  would  but  distract  him,  and,  instead 
of  giving  him  freedom  and  grace,  would  deprive  him 
of  both.  On  his  commencement  as'  a  public  speaker 
(which  cannot  be  too  early),  it  is  necessary  to  teach 
him  every  thing,  and  to  regulate,  by  rules,  every  pos- 
sible circumstance  in  his  delivery ;  his  articulation, 
accent,  emphasis,  pauses,  &c.,  and  along  with  all,  his 
gesture.  After  sufficient  instruction  and  practice,  he 
will  regulate  his  own  manner,  according  to  the  sugges- 
tions of  his  judgment  and  taste. 

Among  the  higher  objects  of  this  system  of  notation, 
may  be  reckoned  its  uses  as  a  record,  whence  the  his- 

*  Although  an  explanation  of  the  gestures  on  Jehovah's  armt  in 
the  above  sentence,  is  sufficient  to  answer  my  present  purpose,  it 
may  not  be  improper  to  inform  the  reader  that  another  gesture  ia 
required  on  the  word  son. 


GESTURE.  75 

torical  painter  may  derive  the  materials  of  truth,  and 
whence  the  orator  and  the  elocutionist  may  not  only 
obtain  the  instructions  of  the  great  men  who  have  pre- 
ceded them  in  the  same  career,  but  by  which  also  they 
may  secure,  unalterably,  their  own  improvements  for 
the  advancement  of  their  art,  and  for  the  benefit  of 
posterity.  A  scene  of  Shakspeare,  or  a  passage  of  Mil- 
ton, so  noted,  after  the  manner  of  a  great  master  of 
recitation,  or  an  oration  so  noted  as  delivered  by  an 
admired  speaker,  would  prove  an  enduring  study  of 
truth  and  nature  combined  with  imagination.  And  the 
aspiring  orator  would  not  be  obliged,  as  at  present,  to 
invent  for  himself  an  entire  system  of  action.  He  might 
derive  light  from  the  burning  lamps  of  the  dead,  and 
proceed  at  once,  by  their  guidance,  towards  the  highest 
honours  of  his  profession. 

Had  the  ancients  possessed  the  art  of  notating  their 
delivery,  such  was  the  unwearied  diligence  of  their 
great  orators,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero,  that  we  should, 
most  probably,  at  this  day,  be  in  possession  of  their 
manner  of  delivery,  as  well  as  the  matter  of  their  ora- 
tions ;  and  not  be  limited  to  conjecture  relative  to  a 
single  sentence  of  these  eminent  speakers,  on  the  great 
occasions  which  called  forth  their  powers. 


76  ELOCUTION. 

CHAPTER  III. 

POSITION    OF    THE    FEET   AND    LOWER    LIMBS. 

THE  parts  of  the  human  figure  which  are  brought 
into  action,  in  gesture,  cannot,  in  truth,  be  considered 
separate ;  for  every  muscle,  over  which  men  can  exer- 
cise voluntary  action,  contributes,  in  some  measure,  to 
the  perfection  of  gesture.  For,  convenience,  however, 
we  may  enumerate  and  class  the  most  distinguished 
parts  of  the  body,  which  effect  the  principal  gestures. 
These  are : 

1.  The  HEAD.  5.  The  HANDS  and  FINGERS. 

2.  The  SHOULDERS.  6.  The  LOWER  LIMBS  and 

3.  The  TRUNK.  KNEES. 

4.  The  ARMS.  7.  The  FEET. 

I  shall  begin,  as  it  were,  with  the  foundation  of  the 
building,  and  shall  first  consider  the  positions  and 
motions  of  the  feet  and  lower  limbs ;  since  without  the 
stability  and  ease  of  these,  neither  grace  nor  dignity 
can  consist  in  the  standing  figure. 

As  the  object  of  the  orator  is  to  persuade,  and  as 
prejudice  against  his  person  or  manners  may  greatly 
impede  him,  he  must  recommend  himself  by  every  at- 
tention to  his  external  deportment  which  may  be 
deemed  correct  and  proper ;  and  guard  against  every 
species  of  inelegance  that  may  prove  disadvantageous. 
He  must,  therefore,  even  in  his  posture  as  he  stands, 
prefer  manly  dignity  and  grace  to  awkward  rusticity 
and  rude  strength.  Rude  strength  may  suit  him  who 
wishes  to  terrify,  or  to  insult ;  but  this  is  rarely  the 
purpose  of  a  public  speaker.  Grace  and  decorum  win 
favour ;  and  this  is  the  general  object.  Rude  strength 
stands  indeed  with  stability,  but  without  grace. 

The  gracefulness  of  motion  in  the  human  form,  or 
perhaps  in  any  other,  consists  in  the  facility  and  secu- 


GESTURE.  77 

rity  with  which  it  is  executed.  And  the  grace  of  any 
postures  (except  such  as  are  manifestly  designed  for 
repose),  consists  in  the  apparent  facility  with  which 
they  can  be  varied.  Hence,  in  the  standing  figure,  the 
posture  is  graceful  when  the  weight  of  the  body  is 
principally  supported  by  one  limb,  whilst  the  other  is 
so  placed  as  to  be  ready  to  relieve  it  promptly,  and 
without  effort.  And  as  the  limbs  are  formed  for  a 
mutual  share  of  labour  and  of  honour,  so  their  alterna- 
tion in  posture,  and  in  motion,  is  agreeable  and  grace- 
ful. 

The  body  must  then  be  supported,  if  grace  be  con- 
sulted, on  either  limb,  like  Apollo,  Antinous,  and  other 
beautiful  and  well-executed  statues. 

The  positions  of  the  feet  are  expressed  by  the  nota- 
tion annexed,  which  is  to  be  written  under  the  word 
where  the  speaker  is  to  assume  such  position.  They 
are  the  following : 


First  Position  of  the  Right  Foot,  noted  R.  1.  (See  Fig.  15). 

The  upper  part  of  the  figure  represents  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  position ;  the  lower,  the  plan. 

In  this  position  the  right  foot  (advanced  before  the 
eft  about  the  breadth  of  the  foot), 
orms,  with  the   left,  an   angle  of 
about  seventy-five  degrees,  as  may 
be   seen   in   the  plan.      The   lines 
which    form    this    angle,    passing 
through   the  length  of  each   foot, 
meet  its"  vertex  under  the  heel  of 
the  left.     The  principal  weight  of 
the  body  is  sustained   by  the  left 
foot ;  the  right  rests  lightly,  but  in 
its  whole   length,  upon   the   floor. 
This  fact  is  shown  in  the  plan  by  deeply  shading  the 
left  foot,  and  lightly  shading  the  right. 
7* 


78  ELOCUTION. 

Second  Position  of  the  Right  Foot,  noted  R.  2.  (See  Fig.  1 6.) 

In  this  position,  the  right  foot  sliding  forward  about 
half  its  length,  receives  the  principal 
weight  of  the  body,  the  left  being 
raised,  and  turning  as  far  inwards 
towards  the  right ;  the  ball  of  the 
left  great  toe  only  lightly  touching 
the  floor,  to  keep  the  body  from  tot- 
tering. In  the  plan,  the  right  foot, 
by  which  the  weight  of  the  body  is 
principally  sustained,  is  all  shaded, 
while  that  part  only  of  the  left  is 
shaded  which  rests  upon  the  floor. 

The  angle  formed  by  lines  drawn  through  the  length 

of  the  feet,  in  this  position,  is  about  ninety  degrees. 
In  this  position,  when  the  feet  are  near  together,  the 

entire  sole  of  the  left  foot  may  lightly  touch  the  floor ; 

but  when  the  feet  are  separated  about  their  own  length, 

or  more,  the  left  should  touch  only  near  the  great  toe ; 

the  knee  should  be  bent,  and  the  heel  turned  inward, 

as  in  Fig.  24  and  26. 

First  Position  of  the  Left  Foot,  noted  L.  1.  (See  Fig.  17). 

This  position  of  the  left  foot  is,  in 
all  respects,  analogous  to  the  first 
position  of  the  right.  The  left  foot 
is  advanced,  and  the  body  is  princi- 
pally supported  by  the  right.  The 
shading  of  the  plan  is  similar  to  that 
in  the  first  position  of  the  right,  and 
for  the  same  purposes. 

The  first  position  of  the  right  foot 
17  x  is  the  proper  reading  position,  when 

no  gesture  is  employed ;  but  it  should  be  occasionally 
alternated  with  the  first  position  of  the  left,  for  the 
relief  of  the  supporting  muscles. 


GESTURE. 


79 


Second  Position  of  the  Left  Foot-noted  L.  2.  (See  Fig.  18). 

This  position  of  the  left  foot  is,  in 
all  respects,  analogous  to  the  second 
position  of  the  right;  and,  in  the 
figure,  it  is  represented  in  the  same 
manner,  only  reversed. 

Figure  19  is  a  better  plan  of  the 
feet  than  that  annexed  to  the  eleva- 
tions. In  both  positions  the  right 
foot  advances  about  half  its  own 
length,  as  may  be  seen  by  comparing  18 

it  with  the  equidistant  parallel  lines.  In  the  first  posi- 
tion of  the  right  foot,  the  lines  ff,  ff,  passing  through 
the  centre  of  the  feet, 

make    an     angle     of 1- 

about  seventy-five  de- 
grees ;  and  in  the  se- 
cond position,  the 
lines  SS  make  an  an- 
gle of  about  ninety 
degrees.  These  an- 
gles are  nearly  bi- 
sected by  the  line 
EE,  which  goes  to 
the  eye  of  the  person 
addressed.  In  the 
first  position,  the  lines 
c,f,  q,  a?,  6,*  annexed 
to  the  dotted  prints  of  both  the  feet,  mark  the  manner 
in  which  they  are  shifted,  without  altering  their  own 
angle,  according  as  the  gesture  is  directed.  In  the 
plan  the  gesture  is  supposed  to  be  directed  forwards. 
This  figure  may  be  supposed  to  be  reversed  for  the  first 
and  the  second  position  of  the  left  foot. 

The  first  position  of  either  foot,  but  particularly  that 

*  These  are  notation  letters,  which  will  be  explained  in  their 
place. 


80 


ELOCUTION. 


of  the  right  (because  the  more  graceful),  is  the  proper 
reading  position.  It  is  also  the  proper  rising  position 
of  the  orator.  But  should  he  stretch  forth  his  arms 
towards  the  audience,  when  he  begins  to  speak,  he 
should  take  the  second  position. 

Besides  the  four  positions  above  mentioned,  there  are 
two  others,  which  may  be  called  positions  in  front. 
The  heels  are  placed  nearly  together,  and  the  body  is 
supported,  alternately,  on  the  right  and  left  foot,  whilst 
the  toes  of  the  other  lightly  touch  the  floor.  The  angle 
formed  by  the  feet,  in  these  positions,  is  somewhat 
greater  than  a  right  angle.  In  other  respects  they 
are  similar  to  the  ordinary  positions.  The  right  po- 
sition in  front,  noted  R.  F.,  is  when  the  body  is  sup- 
ported on  the  left  foot.  The  left  position  in  front, 
noted  L.  F.,  is  when  the  body  is  supported  on  the  right 
foot.  The  position  in  front  is  used  when  persons  are 
addressed  alternately,  on  either  side,  whilst  the  audi- 
tors are  in  front,  as  on  the  stage.  It  is  not  graceful, 
and  should  not  often  be  used ;  it  is  too  stiff  and  formal, 
like  the  military  figure,  and  presents  the  body  with  too 
much  uniformity  and  flatness.* 


*  This  appears  to  be  the  position  condemned  by  Quintilian : 
"  The  swing  of  those  who  balance  their  body  to  the  right  side  and 
loft,  upon  the  alternate  feet,  is  very  ungraceful." 


GESTURE.  81 

Connected  with  these  positions  which  express  the 
moderate  state  of  the  feet,  are  marked  the  same  posi- 
tions in  the  extended  state.  (Fig*  20.)  These  differ 
from  the  moderate,  principally,  in  the  greater  separa- 
tion of  the  feet.  The  second  position  extended,  en- 
larges the  angle  a  few  degrees  by  drawing  up  the  heel 
of  the  retired  foot.  (See  Fig.  46  and  89.)  The  first 
extended  position  is  made  when  a  person  retires  in  any 
degree  of  alarm ;  and  the  second,  when  he  advances 
with  boldness.  (See  Fig.  106  and  108.)  An  x  is  added 
to  the  notation  to  express  the  extended  position,  thus ; 
R.  1.  x;  R.  2.  x;  &c. 

The  contracted  position  may  be  easily  understood  by 
supposing  the  heels  to  be  brought  close  together.  A  c 
is  added  to  the  notation,  to  express  the  contracted 
position,  thus :  R.  1.  c. 

The  attitude  of  the  orator  should  not  be  like  that  of 
the  affected  dancing-master,  which  is  adapted  to  spring- 
ing agility  and  conceited  display.  The  orator  should 
adopt  such  attitudes  and  positions  only  as  consist  with 
manly  simplicity  and  grace.  The  toes  should  be  turned, 
not  inwards,  like  those  of  the  awkward  rustic,  but 
moderately  outwards ;  and  the  limbs  should  be  so  dis- 
posed as  to  support  the  body  with  ease,  and  to  change 
with  facility.  The  sustaining  foot  should  be  planted 
firmly;  the  leg  braced,  but  not  contracted;  and  the 
knee  straightened  (contraction  suits  the  spring  neces- 
sary for  the  dancer,  and  bent  knees  belong  to  feeble- 
ness, or  timidity) ;  the  other  foot  and  limb  should  press 
lightly,  and  be  held  relaxed,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  im- 
mediate change  and  action,  except  in  very  energetic 
delivery,  where  both  limbs  should  be  braced.  The 
trunk  of  the  body  should  be  well  balanced,  and  sus- 
tained erect  upon  the  supporting  limb,  except  in  such 
instances  as  particularly  require  its  inclination,  as 
veneration,  supplication,  &c.  The  orator  should  face 
his  audience.  Whatever  his  position  may  be,  he  should 
present  himself,  as  Quintilian  expresses,  cequo  pectore 
(Fig.  13),  and  never  in  the  fencer's  attitude. 


62  ELOCUTION. 

In  changing  the  positions  of  the  feet,  the  motion* 
should  be  made  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  and  free 
from  the  parade  and  sweep  of  dancing.  All  changes, 
except  where  particular  energy  requires  the  speaker  to 
stamp,  start  back,  or  advance  with  marked  decision, 
should  be  made  almost  imperceptibly.  The  changes 
should  not  be  too  frequent :  frequent  change  gives  the 
idea  of  anxiety  and  instability,  which  are  unfavourable 
to  an  orator. 

The  several  acts  resulting  from  the  changes  in  the 
positions  of  the  feet,  are,  advancing  (noted  a)  ;  re- 
tiring  (r)  ;  traversing  (tr.)  ;  starting  (s.  or  st.)  ;  stamp- 
ing (sp.),&c. 

If  more  steps  than  one  are  to  be  expressed  (as  in  the 
business  of  the  theatre)  the  number  may  be  introduced 
in  a  parenthesis,  after  the  letter  marking  the  step,  and 
then  the  position  follows  which  finishes  the  movement ; 
thus,  a  (2)  R.  2,  means,  advance  two  steps  to  the  se- 
cond position  of  the  right  foot.  In  private  declama- 
tions, or  recitations  on  a  platform,  or  rostrum,  these 
figures  are  not  necessary,  as  a  single  step,  in  advancing 
or  retiring,  is  sufficient.* 

Changes  of  position,  or  steps,  are  considered  to  be 
made  only  by  the  foot  on  which  the  body  is  not  sup- 
ported, for  that  alone  is  free.  Should  it  be  required  to 
move  the  foot  which  supports  the  body  (suppose  the 
left,  in  the  first  position  of  the  right,  Fig.  15),  two  mo- 

*  I  have  frequently  seen  college  students  take  three  steps  to  the 
right,  then  three  to  the  left,  then  three  again  to  the  right,  and  so 
on,  till  they  had  changed  their  position  fifteen  times  during  the  de- 
livery of  a  discourse  which  did  not  occupy  them  more  than  ten 
minutes.  And  I  have  known  a  clergyman  to  traverse  the  whole 
length  of  his  pulpit  twenty-three  times  during  the  delivery  of  a  ser- 
mon. Such  erratic  movements  in  a  public  speaker  are  undigni- 
fied :  tiiey  betray  a  want  of  judgment,  and  are  exceedingly  annoy- 
ing to  an  audience.  An  orator  should  "keep  in  his  place:"  he 
should  perform  all  the  movements  of  his  feet  within  the  limits  of 
thirty-six  inches  square,  and  not  be  continually  running  about  the 
room  as  if  labouring  under  the  effects  of  nitrous  oxide. 


GESTURE.  83 

tions  are  necessary ;  in  the  first  the  position  must  be 
changed  to  R.  2.  (Fig.  16),  so  as  to  throw  the  weight 
of  the  body  on  the  right  foot,  then  the  left  may  be 
moved  as  required. 

According  to  this  principle,  it  will  be  found  that 
from  each  original  a.R.2     >» 

position  four  steps  ^.    M 

may  be  made.  (See  V<>  •' 

Fig.    21    and   22.)  * 

The    plan    of   the 

steps,  in  the  origi-         M       ~~lK~~~2r         * -J$J 

nal    position,  is  in  ^V  ^       (P\  <\w 

the  centre,  and 
drawn  larger;  the 
plan  of  the  steps, 
made  from  that  ori- 
ginal  position,  is  re- 
presented  smaller. 
The  line  of  motions 
of  the  feet,  is  repre-  21 

sented  by  a  line  of  dots,  nearly  of  the  same  form  which 
each  foot  should  trace ;  the  line  of  the  free,  or  first- 
moving  foot,  is  marked  with  a  star.  In  the  figures,  it 
will  be  observed,  that  from  each  position  four  steps 
may  be  made  —  the  speaker  may  advance,  retire,  tra- 
verse, and  cross.  In 
advancing  and  tra- 
versing,  each  step 
finishes  on  the  second 
position  of  the  ad- 
vancing  foot ;  and, 
in  retiring  from  the  _ 

first  position,  the  step 
finishes  on  the  first 
position  of  the  con- 
trary foot;  but,  in 
retiring  from  the  se- 
cond position,  it  fin- 
ishes  on  the  first 


64 


ELOCUTION. 


position  of  the  same  foot.  In  crossing  from  the  first 
position,  the  free  foot  passes  before  the  other,  and 
finishes  on  the  second  position ;  but,  in  crossing  from 
the  second  position,  it  passes  behind  the  planted  foot, 
and  finishes  on  the  first  position. 

The  steps  from  the  two  positions  of  the  left  foot  are 
similar  to  those  of  the  right,  and  do  not  require  to  be 
explained  by  another  figure. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   POSITIONS,  MOTIONS,  AND    ELEVATIONS  OF   THE  ARMS. 

Fig.  23  represents  a  person  standing  with  his  arms 
hanging  unconstrained.  Now,  if  from  this  position  the 
arm  be  raised  as  high  as  it  can  be,  as  in  Fig.  24,  the 
extremity  of  the  fingers  will  describe,  in  the  vertical 
direction,  a  semicircle,  which,  in  the  figure,  is  marked 

at  five  points, 
R,  d,  h,  e,  Z,  at 
intervals  of  for- 
ty-five degrees. 
If,  in  the  trans- 
verse direction, 
the  arm  be  ex- 
tended across 
the  body,  as  far 
as  convenience 
will  permit, and 
then  swept  hori- 
zontally round, 
and  outwards, 
the  extremity  of 
the  fingers  will 
describe  a  semi- 
circle, which,  in 
Fig.  25,  is  also 
marked  at  five  points,  c,/,  q,  x,  b,  at  intervals  of  forty- 


24 


GESTURE 


five  degrees.*  Upon 
these  principles  is 
built  the  present  sys 
tern  of  gesture,  which 
is  exemplified  in  the 
following  diagram : 

Fig.  26  is  a  sphere, 
consisting  of  the  pri- 
mary circle,  Z  e  h  d 
R  d  h  e  Z,  the  right 
circle,  Z/R  (crossing 
the  primary  at  right 
angles),  the  two  ob- 


*  The  eye  of  the  spectator  is  supposed  to  be  above  this  figure. 
8 


86  ELOCUTION. 

lique  circleSjZ&R^Z,  and  ZcR&Z  (crossing  the  right 
and  primary  circle  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees), 
the  horizontal  circle  bhcfqhb  (the  plane  of  which 
passes  through  the  projecting  point),  and  the  two  smaller 
circles  b  e  qfc  e  b,  and  b  d  cfq  d  b,  parallel  to  it, 
above  and  below,  at  the  distance  of  forty-five  degrees. 
The  human  figure  is  so  placed  within  this  sphere,  that 
the  internal  central  point  between  the  shoulders,  is  the 
centre  of  the  sphere.  The  postures  and  motions  of  the 
arms  are  referred  to,  and  determined  by,  the  points  at 
which  the  circles  intersect  each  other.*  The  circle 
marked  q,  for  the  right  arm,  becomes  c  for  the  left,  and 
the  contrary.  According  to  this  scheme,  the  postures 
of  the  arms  are  determined,  and  noted  as  follows : 

First)  in  the  Vertical  Direction. 

When  the  arm  hangs  down,  at  rest,  Fig.  23,  it 
is  noted R. 

When  directed  downwards,  within  forty-five 
degrees  of  the  nadir,  Fig.  27  to  31,  it  is  noted  -  d. 

When  directed  towards  the  horizon,  Fig.  32  to  36      h. 

When  elevated  forty -five  degrees  above  the  ho- 
rizon, Fig.  37  to  41 e. 

When  pointing  to  the  zenith,  Fig.  24  -     -    -    -     Z. 

Second,  in  the  Transverse  Direction. 

When  the  arm  is  extended  as  far  as  convenient, 
across  the  body,  say  forty-five  degrees  from  the 
right  circle,  Z/  R,  Fig.  27,  32,  37,  it  is  noted  -  c. 

When  extended  in  the  plane  of  the  right  circle, 
or  directly  forward,  Fig.  28,  33,  38 /. 

When  directed  forty -five  degrees  obliquely  from 
this  position,  Fig.  29,  34,  39 q. 

When  in  the  plane  of  the  primary  circle,  Fig. 
30,  35,  40 x. 

*  In  speaking  of  angles  and  elevations,  determined  by  degrees, 
mathematical  precision  is  not  intended,  and  is  not  necessary  :  it  is 
sufficient  for  the  present  purpose  that  the  position  described  should 
be  nearly  in  the  angle  or  direction  mentioned. 


GESTURE. 


87 


When  forty-five  degrees  backwards  of  this  posi- 
tion, Fig.  31,  36,  41    b. 

From  the  combination  of  the  three  vertical  and  five 
transverse  positions  (Fig.  24  and  25),  exclusive  of  the 
positions  R  and  Z,  fifteen  primary  positions  of  the  arms 
are  formed.  In  the  illustration  of  these  primary  posi- 
tions of  the  arms,  all  the  figures  in  the  upper  line  (Fig. 
27  to  31),  direct  the  arm  downwards,  but  to  different 
points  in  the  transverse  circle ;  all  the  figures  in  the 
second  line  (Fig.  32  to  36),  direct  the  arm  towards  the. 
horizon ;  and  all  those  in  the  third  (37  to  41),  elevate  it 
towards  the  upper  transverse  circle.  If  they  are  taken 
in  the  vertical  direction,  those  in  the  first  column  (27 
32,  37),  point  across ;  those  in  the  second  (28,  33,  38), 
forwards  ;  those  in  the  third  (29,  34,  39),  oblique ;  those 
in  the  fourth  (30,  35,  40),  extended ;  those  in  the  fifth 
(31,  36,  41),  backwards. 


28  "  :          " 

29  "  " 

30  "  " 

31  "  " 


The  Fifteen  Primary  Postures  of  the  Arms  more 
ticularly  noted. 

Fig.  First  Line. 

27   directs  Ithe  arm    downwards  across,     -  -  - 

downwards  forwards,  -  - 

downwards  oblique,   -  -  - 

downwards  extended,  -  - 

downwards  backwards,  -  - 

Second  Line. 

horizontal  across,  -    -  -  - 

horizontal  forwards,  -  -  - 

horizontal  oblique,      -  -  - 

horizontal  extended,  -  - 

39       "         "      "       horizontal  backwards,  -  - 

Third  Line. 

37  directs  the  arm    elevated  across,     -     -  -  - 

38  «         «      "       elevated  forwards,      -  -  - 

39  "         "      "       elevated  oblique,    -     -  -  . 

40  "         "      «      elevated  extended,      -  -  . 


par- 

Noted. 

dc. 
df. 


32  directs  the  arm 

33  "        «      " 

34  "         "      « 

35  "         "      " 


41 


elevated  backwards,  - 


dx. 
db. 

he. 
hf. 
hq. 
hx. 
hb. 


ex. 
eb. 


88 


ELOCUTION. 


39 


GESTURE 


41 


These  are 
the  simple 
primary  pos- 
tures of  the 
whole  arm, 
which,  with 
the  latitude 
allowed,  will 
be  found  suf- 
ficient to  re- 
present most 
of  the  ordi- 
nary ges- 
tures. Bythe 
latitude  al- 
lowed, the 
reader  is  to 
understand 
that  deflex- 
ion from  the 
true  point  in 
reference  to 
which  the 
posture  is 
named:  since 
a  near  ap- 
proach to  the 
proper  point 
is  sufficient 
to  give  the 
posture  the 
name  of  that 
point. 

Thecoilo 
quial  eleva- 
tions of  the 
arm  (Fig.  42, 
43,  44),  are 


90 


ELOCUTION. 


less  bold  than  the  primary  postures.     The  fore  arm,  in 
the  horizontal  elevation,  instead  of  being  raised  to  the 


tamer 


height  of  the  shoulder,  points 
about  as  high  as  the  middle 
of  the  breast;  the  hand,  in 
the  elevated  position,  is  not 
raised  above  the  eyes ;  and 
in  the  position  downwards, 
it  is  held  but  little  below  the 
waist. 

In  delineating  the  primary 
postures,  the  boldest  and  most 
decided  action  has  been  cho- 
sen, which  is  suited  to  the 
epic  style;  because,  in  this 
style,  the  different  postures 
are  the  most  strongly  discri- 
minated. The  colloquial 
44  elevations  are  similar,  but 

In  them  the  distinctive  character  is,  that  the 


GESTURE. 


91 


arm,  at  the  elbow,  is  bent,  and  the  upper  arm  held 
closer  to  the  side. 

The  degree  of  energy  proceeding  from  the  sentiment 
of  desire,  or  aversion,  with  which  a  passage  is  delivered, 
influences  much  the  character  of  the  gesture,  in  the 
same  manner  that  it  does  the  tones  and  expressions  of 
the  voice  ;  the  language  still  remaining  unaltered.  If 
the  passage  to  be  delivered  may  properly  be  illustrated 
by  the  arm  in  the  posture  horizontal  extended  (hx),  the 
degree  of  that  extension  should  vary  with  the  spirit  of 


the  passage.     If  an  object   is 

simply  pointed  to  in  the  hori-x 

zon,  the  arm  should  be  mode- 
rately extended  (Fig.  45),  and 
slightly  bent  at  the  shoulder, 
the  elbow,  and  the  wrist.  If 
the  object  is  highly  interesting, 
and  supposed  to  be  in  the  same 
situation  as  if  a  general  pointed 
to  those  troops  which  he  re- 
quired to  be  instantly  sustained, 
the  arm  should  be  extended  to 
the  utmost,  the  wrist  thrown 
no,  and  the  fingers  down,  whilst 
the  whole  body  should  be  projected  forwards. 


92 


ELOCUTION. 


46.)  The  arm,  in  this  posture,  as  in  the  last,  is  con- 
sidered still  to  be  horizontal  extended,  but  in  the  ex- 
treme degree,  and  is  marked  with  an  additional  x  (hxx). 
If  the  object  in  the  same  situation  as  before  be  sup- 
posed something  producing  disappointment,  or  horror 
the  arm  should  be  contracted,  and  the  whole  person 
should  recoil.  (Fig.  47.)  And  this  also  is  considered 
horizontal  extended;  horizontal,  because  the  hand  is 
directed  towards  the  horizon;  and  extended,  because 
the  arm  continues  in  the  same  plane  as  in  the  former 
instances.  But  the  character  of  this  gesture  differs ; 
and,  in  order  to  express  it  by  the  notation  letters,  a  c 
is  added,  thus,  hxc.  This  notation  is  read,  horizontal 
extended  contracted. 


49 


50 


There  are  other  postures  of  the  arm,  which  require 
?i  separate  consideration.  These  postures  are  named 
from  the  manner  of  holding  the  arm,  or  resting  it  upon 
the  body.  They  admit  of  considerable  variety ;  but 
the  description  of  the  following,  will  suffice  to  explain 
the  class  to  wrhich  they  are  to  be  referred. 

Encumbered,  or  folded,  noted  en.*  (Fig.  48.)  When 
the  arms  are  crossed,  and  enclose  each  other,  the  left 


*  With  arms  encumbered,  thus.  —  Hamlet. 


I 

GESTURE.  93 

hand  holding  the  upper  right  arm,  and  the  right  hand 
passing  under  the  upper  left  arm. 

Kimbo,  k.  The  posture  into  which  the  arm  is  thrown 
by  resting  the  hand  upon  the  hip,  as  in  Fig.  49. 

Reposed,  pd.  When  one  fore  arm  rests  upon  the 
other,  as  in  Fig.  50.  This  posture  is  peculiar  to  ladies. 


CHAPTER  V. 


POSTURES    AND   MOTIONS   OF    THE    HANDS. 

THE  Roman  critics  and  orators  attributed  consider- 
able importance  to  the  manner  of  disposing  the  fingers, 
in  delivery,  ascribing  to  each  particular  disposition  of 
them,  a  significancy,  or  suitableness  for  certain  expres- 
sions, of  which  we  do  not  always  see  the  force.  Seve- 
ral of  these  dispositions  of  the  fingers  are  employed  by 
our  speakers,  but  without  attaching  to  them  any  par- 
ticular significancy.  Either  they  are  natural  gestures, 
or  they  are  imitations,  of  which  the  origin  is  not  re- 
membered, or  regarded,  as  many  of  our  apparently 
original  actions  are. 

The  postures  of  the  hand  are  determined  by  four 
different  circumstances : 

1.  By  the  disposition  of  the  fingers. 

2.  By  the  manner  of  presenting  the  palm. 

3.  By  the  combined  disposition  of  both  hands. 

4.  By  the  part  of  the  body  on  which  they  are  occa- 
sionally placed. 

First  Class  of  the  Postures  of  the  Hands,  depending  on 
the  Disposition  of  the  Fingers. 

The  natural  state,  noted  n.,  Fig.  51.  The  hand, 
when  unconstrained,  in  its  natural,  and  relaxed  state, 
either  hanging  down  at  rest,  or  raised  moderately  up 
has  all  the  fingers  a  little  bent  inwards  towards  the 


94  ELOCUTION. 

palm ;  the  middle  and  third  finger  lightly  touch ;  the 
fore-finger  is  separated  from  the  middle  finger,  and  less 
bent,  and  the  little  finger  separated  from  the  third,  and 
more  bent.  The  extremity  of  the  thumb  bends  a  little 
outwards;  and,  in  its  general  length  and  disposition,  is 
nearly  parallel  with  the  fore-finger.  When  the  arm  is 
raised  horizontal,  the  hand  is  held  obliquely  between 
the  postures  inward  and  supine.  Cresollius  recom- 
mends the  public  speaker  to  adopt  this  posture  of  the 
hand,  and  for  this  preference  he  adduces  the  authority 
of  Hippocrates  and  Galen.  But  it  is  not  necessary  that 
a  speaker  should  confine  himself  to  any  one  posture  of 
the  hand ;  variety  may  often  demand  the  contrary  :  if, 
however,  he  should  prefer  using  only 
one,  this  posture  merits  the  preference. 


Clinched,  c,  Fig.  52.  The  fingers,  in  this  disposition, 
are  firmly  closed,  and  press  their  extremities  upon  the 
palm ;  the  thumb  aids  the  pressure,  and  is  lapped,  par- 
ticularly, over  the  middle  finger. 

Extended,  x,*  Fig.  53.  The  fingers,  in  this  state, 
whatever  may  be  the  general  position  of  the  hand,  are 
separated  from  each  other  with  energy  in  proportion  to 
the  excitation  of  the  speaker. 

Index,  i,  Fig.  54,  55,  56.  Pointing  with  the  fore- 
finger, and  sometimes  also  with  the  middle  finger  ex- 
tended, the  other  fingers  turned  inwards,  and  contract- 
ed with  more  or  less  force,  according  to  the  energy  of 

*  The  letter  chosen  for  the  notation  of  a  particular  gesture,  is 
not  always  the  initial  letter,  because  the  names  of  many  of  the  ges- 
tures begin  with  the  same  .letter.  It  becomes  necessary,  therefore, 
to  employ  some  remarkable  letter  in  the  word ;  thus,  x  is  used  for 
extended,  and  I  for  collected,  which  may  be  easily  remembered. 
Of  the  many  names  of  gestures  which  begin  with  the  same  letter, 
the  gesture  most  used  is  marked  by  the  initial  letter. 


GESTURE. 


95 


the  speaker.     This  gesture   is  used  in  reproach  and 
indication,  from  the  last  of  which  it  has  its  name,  inde*. 


56 

Collected,  I,  Fig.  57  and  58.  When  the  ends  of  all 
the  fingers  are 
gently  inclined 
towards,  or  touch 
the  end  of  the 
thumb. 

With  the  fin- 
gers collected,  as 
in  a,  the  hand  is 
brought  near  the 
lips,  or  opposite 
shoulder,  then  re- 
moved in  the  contrary  direction,  with  the  fingers  ex- 
tended, as  in  b. 

Holding,  h,  Fig.  59,  60,  61.     The  finger  and  thumb 


are  pressed  together,  either  the  fore 
or  middle  finger,  or  both  ;  the  other 
fingers  are  contracted,  more  or  less, 
according  to  the  degree  of  energy  re- 
quired by  the  sentiment. 

Hollow,  10,  Fig.  62.     When  the  palm  is  held  nearly 


64 


96 


ELOCUTION. 

supine,  and  the  fingers  turn  inwards, 
without  touching. 

Thumb,  m,  Fig.  63  and  64.  Point- 
ing with  the  thumb,  the  fingers  being 
clasped  down,  and  the  thumb  ex- 
tended. 

Grasping,  g,  Fig.  65.  The  fin- 
gers and  thumb  seizing  the  garments, 
or  the  hair. 

"  That  gesture,"  says  Quintilian,  "  which  urges  on 

the  words,  contract- 
ing and  opening  the 


hand  with  alternate 
and  rapid  motion,  is 
rather  admitted  by 
common  usage,  than  according  to  art."     (See  Fig.  66.) 

Second  Class  of  the  Postures  of  the  Hands,  depending 
on  the  manner  of  presenting  the  Palm. 

Prone,  pt  Fig.  67.     The   hand   is  prone  when   the 

palm     is    turned 
downwards. 

Supine,  s.    The 
68  hand  is  said  to  be 

supine,  when  the  palm  is  turned  upwards,  as  in  Fig.  68. 
Inwards,  n,  Fig.  69.     When  the  palm  is  turned  to- 
wards the  breast 
and  the  hand  is 
held  on  the  edge. 
70  Outwards,     o, 

Fig.  70.  When  the  palm  is  turned  from  the  body,  and 
towards  the  object,  the  thumb  down- 
wards, the  hand  held  on  the  edge. 

Vertical,  v,  Fig.  71 .  When  the  palm  is 
perpendicular  to  the  horizon,  the  fingers 
pointing  upwards. 

Forwards,/.  When  the  palm  is  pre- 
sented forwards,  the  arm  hanging  down,  or  placed  in 
one  of  the  extended,  or  backward  positions. 


GESTURE. 


97 


Backwards,  b.  When  the  palm  is  turned  back- 
wards, the  arm  hanging  down,  or  placed  in  one  of  the 
extended,  or  backward  positions. 

Third  Class  of  the  Postures  of  the  Hands,  arising  from 
the  combined  disposition  of  both  Hands. 

Of  this  class  a  few  only  are  noticed,  and  those  are 
they  which  are  most  in  use  among  public  speakers; 
others  may  be  supplied  as  occasion  may  require.  It  is 
found  necessary  to  use  two  letters  for  the  notation  of 
each  of  these  postures. 


74 


Applied,  ap,  Fig.  72.  When  the  palms  are  pressed 
together,  and  the  fingers  and  thumbs  of  each  are  mu- 
tually laid  against  each  other. 

Clasped,  Ip,  Fig.  73.  When  all  the  fingers  are  in- 
serted between  each  other,  and  the  hands  pressed 
closely  together. 

Folded,  Id,  Fig.  74.  When  the  fingers  of  the  right 
hand,  at  the  second  joint,  are  laid  between  the  thumb 
and  fore-finger  of  the  left,  the  right  thumb  crossing  the 
left. 


98  ELOCUTION. 

Crossed,  cr,  Fig.  75.  When  the  left  hand  is  placed 
on  the  breast,  and  the  right  on  the  left,  or  the  contrary. 

Inclosed,  in,  Fig.  76.  When  the  knuckles  at  the 
middle  joint  of  one  hand,  moderately  bent,  are  received 
within  the  palm  of  the  other,  the  fingers  of  which  stretch 
along  the  back  of  the  inclosed  hand  nearly  to  the  wrist, 
the  thumbs  crossing,  or  rather,  laid  at  length  over  each 
other. 

Touching,  tc,  Fig.  77.  When  the  points  of  the  fin- 
gers of  each  hand  are  brought  lightly  into  contact. 


Wringing,  wr,  Fig.  78.  When  both  hands  are  first 
clasped  together,  and  elevated,  then  depressed,  and 
separated  at.  the  wrists,  without  disengaging  the  fin- 
gers. 

Enumerating,  nu,  Fig.  79.  When  the  index  finger 
of  the  right  hand  is  laid  suc- 
cessively upon  the  index,  or 
the  different  fingers  of  the 
left.  If  the  number  of  divi- 
sions be  more  than  four,  the 
.enumeration  should  begin 
from  the  thumb.  Sometimes 
the  finger  and  thumb  of  the 
right  hand  hold  the  finger  of  the  left,  which  represents 
the  divisio.i. 

Fourth  Class  of  the  Postures  of  the  Hands,  arising  from 
the  Part  of  the  Body  on  which  they  are  occasion- 
ally placed. 

The  fourth  class  of  the  postures  of  the  hands  arises 
from  the  part  of  the  body  on  which  they  are  occasion- 


GESTURE. 


99 


a.ly  placed.     The  notation  letter  by  which  these  are 
represented,  is  a  capital ;  and  it  occupies  the  place  in 


the  Systematic  Ta- 
ble (to  be  found  in 
another  part  of  this 
work),  of  those  two 
small  letters  which 
represent  the  posi- 
tion of  the  arm  in 
the  vertical  and 
transverse  direc- 
tion. The  parts  of 
the  body  and  head 
most  remarkable,  in 
this  respect,  are,  the 
breast,  noted  B  (Fig. 
80);  the  eyes,  E  (Fig.  81);  the  lips,  L  (Fig.  82) ;  the 
forehead,  F  (Fig.  83) ;  the  chin,  C  (Fig.  84). 

The  Motions  of  the  Arms  and  Hands. 

In  ascertaining  the  import  of  any  posture  of  either 
arm,  or  hand,  it  is  important  to  consider  the  posture  in 
connexion  with  the  action  by  which  it  is  produced; 


100 


ELOCUTION. 


for  any  posture  of  the  arm,  or  hand,  may  sustain  differ- 
ent significant  characters,  because  different  actions  give 
the  same  posture  an  entirely  different  import.  This 
must  be  obvious  to  all  who  reflect  that  the  effect  of  the 
posture  greatly  depends  upon  the  exact  character  of 
the  motion,  which  is  produced  partly  by  the  direction 
which  the  motion  takes,  partly  by  the  force  with  which 
it  is  commenced,  and  partly  by  the  distance  through 
which  it  passes. 


The  motions  of  the  hands  and  arms  together,  are, 
therefore,  considered ;  first,  as  to  their  direction ;  and, 
secondly,  as  to  their  manner  of  moving.  The  energy 
is  not  here  taken  into  account.  These  motions  are 
noted  by  the  fourth  and  fifth  small  letters,  should  so 
many  be  necessary. 

In  the  direction  of  the  motion  (Fig.  85),  gestures  are 
considered  as  ascending,  noted  a ;  descending,  d ;  to 
the  right,  r ;  to  the  left,  I ;  forwards,  /;  backwards, 
b ;  revolving,  v.  The  stars,  connected  with  the  hand 
by  dots,  show  the  various  points  from  which  the  mo 
tion  of  the  gestures  has  commenced. 


GESTURE. 


101 


As  to  the  manner  of  motion,  gesture  may  be  consi- 
dered as 

Noting,  noted  n,  Fig.  11,  page  71.  When  the  hand 
is  first  drawn  back  and  raised,  and  then  advanced,  and, 
with  a  gentle  stroke,  depressed. 

Projecting,  or  pushing,  p,  Fig.  86.  When  the  arm 
is  first  retracted,  and  then  thrust  forward  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  the  hand  points. 


Waving,  w,  Fig.  87.  When 
the  fingers  are  first  pointed 
downwards,  and  then,  by  a 
smart  motion  of  the  elbow  and 
wrist,  the  hand  is  flung  up- 
ward in  a  vertical  direction. 

The  flourish,  fl,  Fig.  88.  A 
circular  movement  above  the 
head. 

The  sweep,  sw,  Fig.  89.  A 
curved  movement,  descending 
from  the  opposite  shoulder,  and 
rising  with  velocity  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  the  arm,  or 
the  reverse ;  changing  the  position  of  the  hand  from 
9* 


102  ELOCUTION. 

supine  to  vertical,  in  the  first  case,  and  from  vertical 
to  supine,  in  the  latter.  The  sweep  is  sometimes  doubled, 
by  returning  the  arm  through  the  same  arch.* 

Beckoning,  bk.  When  with  the  fore-finger,  or  the 
whole  hand,  the  palm  being  turned  inwards,  a  motion 
is  made  in  the  direction  of  the  breast. 

Repressing,  rp.  The  reverse  of  the  preceding  ges- 
ture, when  the  fore-finger,  or  the  whole  hand,  the  palm 
turned  outwards,  makes  a  motion  in  opposition  to  the 
person  addressed.  The  motions,  in  these  last  two  ges- 
tures, are  often  repeated. 


Striking,  st,  Fig.  90.  When  the  whole  fore-arm,  and 
the  hand  along  with  it,  descend  from  a  higher  elevation 
rapidly,  and  with  a  degree  of  force  like  a  stroke  which 
is  arrested,  when  it  has  struck  what  it  was  aimed 
against. 

Recoiling,  re,  Fig.  91.  When  after  a  stroke,  as  in 
the  former  gesture,  the  arm  and  hand  return  to  the 
position  whence  they  proceeded. 

*  The  late  John  Kemble,  says  Mr.  Austin,  used  the  double  sweep, 
with  fine  effect,  on  these  words : 

The  play  's  the  thing 
Wherein  I  '11  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king.  —  Hamlet. 


GESTURE.  103 

Advancing,  ad.  When  the  hand  being  first  moved 
downwards  and  backwards,  in  order  to  obtain  greater 
space'  for  action,  is  then  moved  regularly  forwards,  and 
raised  as  high  as  the  horizontal  position,  a  step  being, 
at  the  same  time,  made  in  advance,  to  aid  the  action. 

Springing,  sp.  When  the  hand,  having  nearly  ar- 
rived at  the  intended  limit  of  gesture,  flies  suddenly  up 
to  it  by  a  quick  motion  of  the  wrist,  like  the  blade  of  a 
pocket-knife,  when  it  suddenly  and  decidedly  snaps  into 
its  proper  situation  by  the  recoil  of  the  spring. 

Throwing,  th.  When  the  arm,  by  the  force  of  the 
gesture,  is  thrown,  as  it  were,  in  the  direction  of  the 
person  addressed. 

Clinching',  cl.  When  the  hand  is  suddenly  clinched, 
and  the  arm  raised  in  a  posture  of  threatening,  or  con- 
tempt. 

Collecting,  II.  When  the  arm,  from  an  extended 
posture,  sweeps  inwards. 

Shaking,  sh.  When  a  tremulous  motion  is  made  by 
the  arm  and  hand. 

Pressing,  pr.  When  the  hand,  already  laid  on  some 
part,  the  effort  of  pressing  is  marked  by  raising  the 
elbow,  and  contracting  the  fingers. 

Retracting,  rt.  When  the  arm  is  withdrawn,  pre- 
paratory to  projecting,  or  pushing,  as  may  be  imagined 
in  Fig.  47,  if  supposed  to  prepare  to  push  towards  the 
star,  and  as  in  the  dotted  hand  and  arm  of  Fig.  91,  or 
in  the  right  arm  of  Fig.  96 ;  or,  in  order  to  avoid  an 
object  either  hateful  or  horrible,  as  in  Fig.  95  and  105. 

Rejecting,  rj.  Is  the  action  of  pushing  the  hand 
vertically  towards  the  object,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
averting  the  head,  as  in  Fig.  97,  for  which  Fig.  96  is 
preparatory. 

Bending,  bn,  is  the  gesture  preparatory  to  striking. 
It  is  represented  by  the  uppermost  dotted  hand  and 
arm  of  Fig.  90,  and  by  the  strongly  marked  elevated 
right  arm  of  Fig.  91. 

The  gestures  here  given  will  suffice,  as  a  specimen 


104  ELOCUTION. 

of  some  of  the  most  useful  in  this  class  ;  others  may  be 
named,  and  marked  by  proper  notation,  as  occasion 
may  require. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  HEAD,  THE  EYES,  THE  SHOULDERS,  AND  THE  BODY. 

As  the  head  gives  the  chief  grace  to  the  person,  so 
does  it  principally  contribute  to  the  expression  of  grace, 
in  delivery. 

The  head  should  be  held  in  an  erect  and  natural 
posture ;  for,  when  hung  down,  it  expresses  humility, 
or  diffidence ;  when  thrown  back,  arrogance ;  and  when 
inclined  to  one  side,  languor  or  indifference.  The 
movements  of  the  head  should  be  suited  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  delivery ;  they  should  accord  with  the  ges- 
ture, and  fall  in  with  the  action  of  the  hands,  and  the 
motions  of  the  body. 

The  head  is  capable  of  many  appropriate  expres- 
sions. Besides  those  nods  which  signify  assent,  or  ap- 
probation and  rejection,  there  are  motions  of  the  head, 
known,  and  common  to  all,  which  express  modesty, 
doubt,  admiration  and  indignation.  But  to  use  the 
gesture  of  the  head  alone,  unaccompanied  by  any  other 
gesture,  is  considered  faulty.  It  is  also  a  fault  to  shake 
or  nod  the  head  frequently,  to  toss  it  violently,  or  to 
agitate  the  hair,  by  rolling  it  about. 

The  most  usual  motions  and  postures  of  the  head, 
are  as  follows.  In  the  notation,  the  head  and  eyes 
may,  without  confusion,  be  considered  together. 


Postures  and  Motions  of 
the  Head. 

Inclined,     noted  -  -    I 
Erect,  «      -  -   E 

Assenting,      "      -  -    As 


Direction  of  the  Eyes. 

Forwards,      noted  -  -     F 
Averted,  "      -  -     A 

Downwards,      "      -  -      D 


GESTURE.  105 

Denying,  "  -  -  Dn    Upward,  "  -  -  U 

Shaking,  "  -  -  Sh   j  Around,  "  -  -  R 

Tossing,  "  -  -  Ts   |  Vacuity,  or  " 

Aside,  "  -  -  S     !  Vacancy,*  "  -  -  V 

The  motions  of  the  trunk  contribute  much  to  the 
effect  in  delivery.  The  gestures  of  the  arms  and  hands, 
therefore,  should  always  be  supported  by  the  accom- 
paniment of  the  body.  Not  by  affected  and  ridiculous 
contortions,  but  by  the  manly  and  free  exertions  of  the 
muscles  of  the  body,  the  general  consent  of  which  is 
indispensable  to  the  production  of  graceful  motion. 
The  raising  up,  or  shrugging  of  the  shoulders,  in  order 
to  express  indifference,  or  contempt,  is  merely  theatri- 
cal, and  should  be  sparingly  used,  even  on  the  stage. 

The  postures  of  the  trunk  might  also  be  enumerated, 
and  be  subjected  to  the  rules  of  notation ;  but  this  would 
be  unnecessary,  as  they"  are  in  general  sufficiently  un- 
derstood, being  the  accompaniment  of  the  motions  of 
the  head,  the  arms  and  the  hands. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    STROKE    AND   TIME    OF    GESTURE. 

THE  arm,  the  fore-arm,  the  hand,  and  the  fingers, 
form  the  grand  instrument  of  gesture,  or,  as  Cicero 
calls  it,  "  the  weapon  of  the  orator."  The  centre  of 
motion  of  this  compound  instrument,  is  the  shoulder. 
These  parts  do  not  move  together  in  the  manner  of  an 
inflexible  line ;  but  each  separate  joint  often  becomes 
a  new  centre  of  motion  for  the  portion  between  it  and 
the  extremity. 

In  gesticulating,  this  complex  instrument  does  not 
continue  long  in  one  direct  line,  nor  in  any  particular 

'*  Queen.  Alas!  how  is 't  with  you, 

That  you  do  bend  your  eye  on  vacancy, 

And  with  the  incorporeal  air  do  hold  discourse  ? — Hamlet. 


106  ELOCUTION. 

flexure,  but  changes  every  moment  the  angles  formed 
at  the  different  joints,  which  adds  grace  and  variety  to 
the  motions.  The  farther  any  portion  of  this  complex 
line  is  from  the  centre  of  motion,  the  greater  space  does 
it  pass  through.  The  least  motion,  therefore,  is  that 
made  by  the  upper  arm,  and  the  greatest,  that  made 
by  the  hand :  from  this  circumstance  alone,  the  ges- 
tures of  the  latter  are  conspicuous.  In  gesticulating, 
the  hand  has  not  only  the  advantage  of  being  placed  at 
the  extremity  of  the  line  farthest  from  the  centre  of 
motion ;  but,  by  means  of  the  joint  at  the  wrist,  it  can 
spring  with  increased  velocity  on  approaching  the  point 
to  which  its  gesture  is  directed.  This  action  of  the 
hand  is  termed  the  stroke  of  the  gesture ;  and  it  should 
be  marked  by  different  degrees  of  force,  according  to 
the  energy  of  the  sentiment.  In  high  passion,  it  should 
be  distinguished  by  a  strong  percussion;  and  in  the 
more  moderate  state  of  the  speaker's  feelings,  merely 
by  a  turn  of  the  hand,  by  a  change  of  posture,  or  ele- 
vation of  the  arm,  or  by  a  momentary  arrest  of  the 
motion  of  the  gesture  in  its  transitions. 

The  stroke  of  the  gesture  is  analogous  to  the  empha- 
sis of  the  voice ;  and  they  should  both  fall  exactly  on 
the  accented  syllable  of  the  emphatic  word.  In  this 
way  the  emphatic  force  of  the  voice,  and  the  stroke  of 
the  gesture,  co-operate  in  presenting  the  idea  in  the 
most  lively  manner,  to  the  eye  as  well  as  to  the  ear. 

There  are  other  points  of  analogy  between  the  voice 
and  gesture,  which  deserve  consideration.  In  the  sim- 
ple and  narrative  parts  of  a  discourse,  there  is  little 
effort  or  variety  of  expression,  in  the  voice.  Under 
the  same  circumstances,  the  gesture,  if  any  is  used, 
should  be  tame  and  simple ;  but,  in  the  more  impas- 
sioned parts,  both  should  be  equally  exerted.  The 
gesture,  also,  in  many  instances,  nearly  imitates  the 
manner  of  the  inflections  of  the  voice.  When  the  voice 
rises,  the  gesture  naturally  ascends;  and  when  the 
voice  makes  the  falling  inflection,  or  lowers  its  pitch, 


GESTURE.  107 

the  gesture  follows  it  by  a  corresponding  descent ;  and, 
in  the  level  and  monotonous  pronunciation  of  the  voice, 
the  gesture  seems  to  observe  a  similar  limitation,  by 
moving  rather  in  the  horizontal  direction,  without  much 
varying  its  elevation. 

^ !  Some  writers  say,  that,  "  in  calm  discourse,  the 
words  and  the  gestures  should  generally  accompany 
each  other;  but,  in  impassioned  discourse,  the  feelings 
of  the  speaker  should  first  be  manifested  in  the  eyes  ; 
then,  by  the  countenance ;  next,  by  the  gesture  ;  and, 
lastly,  by  the  words."  This  is  not  just./  In^allflis^. 
course,  wliether  calm  or  impassioned,  the  words  and 
the  gestures  should  accompany  each  other.  As,  in 
beating  time  in  music,  the  beat  is  made  on  the  accented 
part  of  the  measure,  so  in  speaking,  the  stroke  of  the 
gesture  should  fall  on  the  accented  syllable  of  the  em- 
phatic word.  The  emotion  which  calls  forth  the  word, 
at  the  same  moment,  prompts  the  gesture.  Hence,  the 
muscles  of  gesticulation  should  move  synchronously 
and  harmoniously  with  those  of  the  voice.  When  ges- 
ture is  not  marked  by  the  precision  of  the  stroke,  in 
the  proper  places,  it  is  very  offensive.  The  arms,  like 
those  of  a  person  groping  in  the  dark,  seem  to  wander 
about  in  quest  of  some  uncertain  object ;  and  the  ac- 
tion is  of  that  faulty  kind  which  is  called  sawing  the 
air.  Even  graceful  motions,  unmarked  by  the  pre- 
cision of  the  stroke  of  the  gesture,  as  sometimes  seen, 
particularly  among  singers  on  the  stage,  lose  much  of 
their  force,  and  very  soon  cease  to  afford  pleasure. 
All  the  unmeaning  motions  of  public  speakers  are  at- 
tended with  the  same  ill  effect  as  a  mouthing  and  cant- 
ting  tone  of  declamation,  which  lays  no  emphasis  with 
just  discrimination,  but  swells  and  falls  with  a  vain 
affectation  of  feeling,  and  with  absolute  deficiency  both 
in  taste  and  judgment. 


108 


ELOCUTION. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    CLASSIFICATION    OF    GESTURE. 

THE  arms,  as  well  as  the  hands,  may  be  employed^ 
in  gesticulation,   separately,   or   together,  each  using 
similar,  or  dissimilar  actions.     Each  arm  may  perform 

similar  gestures  when 
the  body  of  the  speaker 
is  presented  towards 
the  person  addressed 
precisely  in  front  (Fig. 
92);  but  when  the 
body  is  not  so  pre- 
sented, the  gestures 
will  not  be  similar 
(Fig.  93) ;  and,  as  such 
posture  and  gestures 
are  not  graceful,  they 
P  are  not  frequently 

used. 

The  advancement  of  one  hand  before  the  other  is 
an  indication  of  precedence,  as  is,  also,  in  general,  its 
higher  elevation.  The  advanced  hand,  therefore,  is 
said  to  perform  the  principal  gesture.  In  general,  the 
elevation  of  the  retired  arm  is  a  whole  position  lower 
than  that  of  the  advanced  arm ;  and,  though  the  ges- 
ture of  the  retired  hand  occasionally  resembles  that  of 
the  advanced  hand,  yet  its  action  is  performed  with 
less  energy  and  authority.  For  these  reasons,  the  ac- 
tion of  the  retired  hand  is  called  the  subordinate  ges- 
ture. 

There  is  a  class  of  gestures  called  significant  gestures  :* 

*  As  this  word  has  long  been  applied  to  a  certain  class  of  ges- 
tures, and  as  there  is  some  difficulty  in  procuring  a  better,  I  have 
followed  my  predecessors  in  its  use.  The  objection  to  the  word  is 
obvious  —  it  conveys  the  idea  that  all  the  gestures  which  do  not 


GESTURE.  109 

the  extending  of  the  index-finger  towards  persons,  or 
things,  points  them  out;  the  laying  of  the  hand  on  the 
breast  refers  to  the  feelings  of  the  speaker ;  the  placing 
of  the  finger  on  the  lips  signifies  an  injunction  of  si- 
lence. &c. 

But  gestures,  in  general,  are  too  vague  to  be  com- 
prehended under  this  description :  they  denote  a  sort 
of  general  relation  in  the  expressions  —  their  power  to 
do  this  is  derived  from  the  time  and  manner  of  their 
application,  from  the  place  in  which  they  are  used,  and 
from  their  various  combinations.  Some  are  used  at 
the  beginning  of  a  sentence,  merely  to  indicate  a  com- 
mencement in  action,  as  well  as  speech ;  some  are  used 
for  description ;  some,  for  explaining,  extending,  or 
limiting ;  and  some,  for  enforcing  the  predominant  idea; 
some,  for  keeping  the  audience  in  suspense,  till  the 
more  decisive  gestures ;  and  some,  for  marking  the  ter- 
mination of  the  sense,  and  the  final  result  of  the  reason- 
ing. These  various  gestures  may  be  divided  into  five 
classes : 

1 .  Commencing  gestures.        4.  Suspending  gestures. 

2.  Discriminating  gestures.     5.  Emphatic  gestures. 

3.  Auxiliary  gestures. 

1.  Commencing  gestures  are  made  simply  by  raising 
the  hand  from  rest;  and  that,  in  general,  not  higher 
than  the  horizontal  position.     They  are  used  at  the 
beginning,  and  at  the  divisions  of  a  discourse. 

2.  Discriminating  gestures  comprehend  all  those  ges- 
tures which  serve  to  indicate  persons  and  objects,  as 
well  as  those  which  are  used  for  explaining,  extending, 
limiting,  or  modifying  the  predominant  idea,  and  those 
which  are  employed   in  question  and  answer,  when 
made  without  vehemence.     They  are  performed  in  the 
intermediate  degrees  of  the  range  of  the  gesture,  with 

fall  into  the  class  of  which  this  is  the  distinctive  name,  are  insigni- 
faant,  or  unmeaning ;  a  conclusion  by  no  means  correct. 
10 


110  ELOCUTION. 

moderate  force,  and  at  small  intervals.  In  colloquial 
intercourse  they  are  frequently  confined  to  the  motions 
of  the  head. 

3.  Auxiliary,  or  alternate  gestures,  serve  to  aid,  or 
enforce  the  gesture  of  the  advanced  hand.     They  are 
performed  as  follows:  after  the  advanced   hand   has 
made  its  gesture  on  the  emphatic  word,  instead  of  pass- 
ing to  another  gesture,  on  the  next  emphatic  word,  it 
remains  in  the  attitude  of  the  last  stroke  till  the  retired 
hand  is  brought  up  in  aid  of  it,  either  by  a  similar  ges- 
ture, or  by  a  more  decisive  one.     In  this  way,  variety 
and  extraordinary  energy  are  given,  at  once,  to  pas- 
sages which  admit  of  such  gestures.     Of  course,  these 
gestures  are  used  with  great  advantage  in  high  passion ; 
they  are  also  frequently  employed  in  description,  where 
they  are  executed  more  tamely. 

4.  Suspending,  or  preparatory  gestures,  are  so  called 
because  they  hold   the  audience  in  suspense,  by  the 
elevation  or  contraction  of  the  arm,  preparatory  to  the 
stroke  which  is  to  fall  on  the  emphatic  word. 

5.  Emphatic  gestures  mark,  with  force,  words  op- 
posed to,  or  compared  with,  each  other ;  and,  more  par- 
ticularly, the  word  which  expresses  the  predominant 
idea.     Their  stroke  is  generally  arrested  on  the  hori- 
zontal elevation.     Sometimes,  however,  emphatic  ges- 
tures are  directed  to  the  highest  point  in  their  range ; 
at  other  times,  to  the  lowest.     When  they  are  directed 
to  a  high  point,  they  often  serve  as  suspending,  or  pre 
paratory  gestures,  to  the  next  emphatic  gesture ;  and, 
when  made  at  the  close  of  a  sentence,  they  serve  a;; 
terminating  gestures ;  because,  when  the  last  important 
idea  is  marked,  no  other  gesture  should  be  added,  to 
weaken  its  effect ;  the  arm  should  then  fall  to  rest. 

As  a  sentence  is  an  epitome  of  a  complete  composi- 
tion, having  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  a  conclusion, 
among  single  sentences  illustrations  of  these  different 
gestures  may  be  found.  In  the  following  sentence  the 
gestures  for  the  right  hand,  only,  are  noted. 


GESTURE.  Ill 

shf nef shf  st  —  R* 

No  man  is  wise  at  all  limes. 

com.  susp.        emph.  Sf  ter. 

The  first  is  a  commencing  gesture ;  the  second,  a  sus- 
pending gesture ;  the  third,  an  emphatic  gesture ;  and, 
as  it  is  the  last,  it  is  a  terminating  gesture  also;  and 
the  arm  falls  to  rest.  Should  a  deaf  person  observe 
the  gestures,  as  noted  above,  made  by  a  speaker  in  a 
public  assembly,  he  would  conclude  that  the  orator 
had  performed  what  may  be  termed  a  regular  period 
of  gesture,  by  the  commencement,  the  suspension,  and 
the  emphatic  close  of  the  action.  Should  the  sentence 
be  rendered  more  complex  by  the  introduction  of  other 
members,  discriminating  gestures  will  be  introduced. 

8hf—  icf-  iA/ Ti- 

lt is  an  old  observation,  but  not,  therefore,  the  less  true,  that 

com.  dis.  dis. 

sJiq nef shf  st R 

no  man  is  wise  at  all   times.f 

dis.  susp.  emph.  Sf  ter. 

The  beautiful  reply  of  St.  Paul  to  Agrippa,  entering 
as  such,  at  once,  into  the  subject  abruptly,  without 
exordium,  has  no  commencing  gesture. 

Bsef  sp  BsJif  p q • 

I   would   to   God,  that   not  only  thou,  but  also  all   that  hear 

emph.                                     emph.                         dis. 
x  veq a br.  — 

me  this  day,  were  both  almost  and  altogether,  such  as  I   am, 

dis.  dis.  dis.  emph. 

Bnef  Bshfsh  R 

except  these  bonds.! 

susp.  emph.  Sf  ter. 

*  The  notation  letters,  shf,  signify,  the  hand  supine,  the  arm  hori- 
zontal forwards ;  nef,  the  hand  natural,  the  arm  elevated  forwards ; 
shf  st,  the  hand  supine,  the  arm  horizontal  forwards  striking ;  R, 
rest,  the  arm  in  its  natural  position,  by  the  side. 

f  The  letters,  shf,  signify,  supine  horizontal  forwards ;  ief,  index 
elevated  forwards;  ihfn,  index  horizontal  forwards  noting;  shq, 
supine  horizontal  oblique;  nef,  natural  elevated  forwards;  shf  st, 
supine  horizontal  forwards  striking;  R,  rest. 

I  Bsefsp,  both  hands  supine,  the  arms  elevated  forwards  spring- 
ing ;  Jlshfp,  both  hands  supine  horizontal  forwards  pushing ;  9,  ob- 


112 


ELOCUTION. 


The  five  classes  of  gestures,  above  described,  may 
be  used  in  any  part  of  an  oration.  They  are,  as  it  were, 
the  elements  of  gesture,  which,  by  their  combinations, 
produce  its  whole  power  of  language  and  expression. 
These  elements  are  the  component  parts  of  every  style 
of  delivery,  whether  tame  or  vehement,  argumentative 
or  diffuse,  ardent  or  indifferent,  cold  or  pathetic. 

It  has  been  observed  that  the  principal  gesture  is  performed  by 
the  advanced  hand,  and  the  subordinate  gesture  by  the  retired  hand. 
The  best  modern  speakers  use  either  the  right,  or  the  left  hand,  in- 
discriminately, for  the  principal  gesture,  as  occasion  may  require. 
As  this  practice  is  altogether  at  variance  with  the  opinions  and 
rules  of  the  ancient  critics  and  rhetoricians,  it  may  be  proper  to  in- 
quire how  far  we  are  justifiable  in  our  departure  from  their  great 
authority. 

"  The  left  hand,"  says  Quintilian,  "  can  never,  with  propriety, 
perform  gesture  alone;  but  it  frequently  acts  in  support  of  the  right 
hand."  The  consideration  of  the  dress  of  the 
ancients,  which  differed  so  essentially  from  that 
of  the  moderns,  may  be  sufficient  to  account  for 
the  difference  between  their  customs  and  ours. 
The  form  of  the  ancient  dress  obliged  the  speaker, 
if  not  totally  to  disuse  his  left  hand,  at  least  to 
restrain  its  action  very  considerably.  (See  Fig. 
94.)  The  occasions  on  which  the  left  hand  may 
perform  the  principal  gesture,  are  the  following : 
1.  When  the  persons  addressed  are  on  the  left 
side,  the  left  hand  naturally  performs  the  prin- 
cipal gesture,  in  order  to  avoid  the  awkward- 
ness of  gesticulating  across  the  body.  2.  The 
necessary  discrimination  of  objects  opposed  to 
each  other,  requires  the  left  hand  alternately  to 
perform  the  principal  gesture.  3.  The  advan- 
tage of  variety.  4.  The  power  of  giving,  not 
only  variety,  but  force,  by  occasionally  elevating  the  retired  hand, 
and  bestowing  upon  it  all  the  spirit  and  authority  of  the  gesture. 

But  it  is  not  only  in  the  use  of  the  left  hand  that  modern  speakers 
differ  from  the  ancients:  they  constantly  violate  another  precept 
enjoined  by  Quintilian  and  his  followers,  viz.,  that  of  speaking  with 

Jque  position ;  #,  extended  position ;  veq,  hands  vertical,  arms 
elevated  oblique;  «,  ascending;  6r,  breast  —  the  right  hand  is  laid 
on  the  breast;  Bnef,  both  hands  natural,  the  arms  elevated  for 
wards;  Bshfsh,  both  hands  supine,  arms  horizontal  forwards  shak- 
ing ;  .R,  rest,  the  hands  fall  to  rest. 


GESTURE.  113 

the  corresponding  hand  and  foot  advanced.*  And  yet,  if  the  natural 
emotions  afford  any  just  foundation  for  the  manner  of  gesture,  we 
shall  be  inclined  to  give  the  preference  to  modern  custom.  Those 
passions  which  incline  us  to  advance  towards  their  object,  as  love, 
desire,  anger,  and  revenge,  naturally  cause  the  corresponding  hand 
and  foot  to  advance  together  with  the  head  and  body ;  for,  in  this 
way,  the  nearest  approach  is  made  to  the  object.  And  when  pas- 
sions of  a  contrary  nature,  as  aversion  and  terror,  affect  us,  still  the 
corresponding  hand  and  foot  are  advanced ;  as  if  the  better  to  guard 
the  body  and  head,  which  are  thrown  back.  In  such  cases,  it  would 
produce  unnatural- distortion  to  advance  the  contrary  hand  and  foot. 
Under  tranquil  circumstances,  as  when  the  speaker  delivers  narra- 
tive, or  reasons  calmly,  the  contrary  hand  and  footf  may*  advance 
together  with  grace  and  propriety.  Indeed,  perhaps  such  posture 
is  preferable,  as  it  presents  the  body  more  exactly  in  front  towards 
the  persons  addressed.  It  was,  probably,  such  circumstances  alone, 
which  Quintilian  had  in  view  when  he  pronounced  his  opinion,  that 
it  is  unbecoming  to  stand  with  the  corresponding  hand  and  foot  ad- 
vanced. This  explanation  will  serve  to  reconcile  the  apparent 
deviation  of  the  moderns  from  the  ancient  practice. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   PREPARATION,  TRANSITION,  AND  ACCOMPANIMENT   OP 
GESTURE. 

IN  the  transitions  of  gesture,  the  hand  and  arm  should 
not,  in  general,  be  precipitated  to  the  intended  position 
by  the  shortest  course ;  but,  in  the  calmer  parts  of  the 
oration,  they  should  move  in  a  sort  of  waving  line,  or 
in  one  returning  upon  itself,  somewhat  in  the  manner 
represented  by  the  following  diagram  : 

Diag.  18. 


Let/  represent  the  position  of  the  arm  and  hand  for 
wards,  and  let  the  place  of  the  next  gesture  be  q  (ob- 

*  Right  hand  and  right  foot ;  or  left  hand  and  left  foot. 

•»  The  right  hand  and  left  foot ;  or  the  left  hand  and  right  foot, 

10*  H 


114 


ELOCUTION. 


Diag.  19. 


lique),  and  of  a  third  be  x  (extended).  The  hand  should 
not  move  in  the  line  of  dots  directly  from /to  q,  and 
from  q  to  x  ;  but  from  /  go  back  almost  to  c  (across), 
in  order  that  it  may  traverse  the  greater  space ;  and 
then  proceed  to  q  with  an  accelerated  motion  for  the 
stroke  of  the  gesture.  In  the  same  manner,  and  for  the 
same  purpose,  it  should  return  back  almost  to/,  before 
jt  proceeds  to  x. 

The  ascending  and  descending  gestures  are  performed 
in  the  same  manner,  under  simi 
lar  circumstances,  as  may  be 
seen  in  diagram  19,  in  which  Z 
is  the  zenith,  and  R  the  point  of 
rest,  and  where  the  hand,  in 
ascending  and  descending,  is  re- 
presented as  making  returning 
inflections  at  the  principal  points, 
d,  h,  and  e. 

The  line  of  preparation  as- 
sumes a  variety  of  other  curves, 
fourteen  of  which  are  repre- 
sented by  Diagram  20. 

Whatever  form  this  indirect 
line  may  be,  it  is  used  as  a  pre- 
paration for  the  gesture  to  which 
it  leads;  and  the  extent  of  the 
return,  or  depth  of  the  sweep  or 
indentation,  is  determined  by 
the  character  of  the  sentiments  to  be  delivered.  The 
more  magnificent  they  are,  the  greater  is  this  parade ; 
and  the  nearer  to  ordinary  discourse,  the  less  it  is. 
The  preparation  made  by  these  different  curves  does 
not  suit  every  species  of  gesture ;  it  is  adapted  almost 
solely  to  that  kind  which  is  termed  discriminating 
Another  kind  of  preparation  is  made  for  emphatic  ges- 
tures. They  are  generally  preceded  by  a  suspending 
gesture,  which  serves  the  double  purpose  of  marking 
some  less  important  word,  and  of  preparing  for  the 


GESTURE. 


115 


stroke  of  the  emphatic  gesture.     It  will  be  recollected 
that  contracting  and  retracting  gestures  are  reckoned 


Diag.  20. 


amongthe  sus 

pending    ges- 

tures, as    be- 

ing made  pre- 

vious to  some 

forcible  ef- 

fort, and  are, 

therefore,  pre- 

paratory   to 

the  gestures 

which  ensue. 

In  order  to  il- 

lustrate what 

is     here     ad- 

vanced, let  it 

be   supposed 

that  the   em- 

phatic    ges- 

ture  requires 

a  strong  per- 

cussion of  the  arm  descending  forwards,  as  shfst  —  , 

the  preparation  for  this  is  the  suspending,  or  prepara 

tory  gesture  nef  bn  —  ,  as  in  the  following  example  : 

nefbn  —  sltf  st  — 

Hear  me   for   my  cause.*  —  Shakspeare. 

susp.  emph. 

An  example  of  a  preparatory  contracting  gesture  : 

vhfrt—  vhfrj  — 

I   hate   the   drum's  discordant  sound.f  —  Langhorne. 

A  gesture  across,  which  passes  rapidly  to  the  ex- 
tended position,  may  also  be  used  as  a  preparation  foi 
rejection  : 

*  The  letters,  nefbn,  signify,  natural  elevated  forwards  bending 
f>hf  st,  supine  horizontal  forwards  striking. 

j"  The  letters,  vhfrt,  signify,  vertical  horizontal  forward  retract* 
ing;  vhfrj,  vertical  horizontal  forwards  rejecting. 


116  ELOCUTION. 

Who's  here  so   base  that   would    be   a   bondman?*— Shaks. 
Another  example  of  a  previous  contracted  gesture : 

Bv  hf  rt p x 

To   hear   the  roar   she   sends   through   all   her  gates. — Cowp. 

In  the  passage  from  Cowper,  the  suspending,  or  previous  gesture, 
Bvhfrj,  contains  all  the  letters  belonging  to  the  subsequent  em- 
phatic gesture,  except  the  last  (;?).  This  new  letter,  only,  is  ex- 
pressed, and  is  joined  by  a  long  dash,  or  mark  of  connexion,  with 
the  notation  letters  of  the  preceding  gesture  :  another  line  of  con- 
nexion, joining  this  letter  to  x,  signifies  that  both  hands  continuing 
in  the  same  position,  viz.  vertical,  the  arms  are  to  be  extended.  The 
gestures,  marked  at  large  on  this  line,  would  be  as  follows : 

Bvhf  rt Bvhfp Bvhx 

To  hear  the    roar    she  sends  through  all  her  gates.f 

But  the  former  method  is  preferable,  as  it  abridges  the  trouble  ol 
notation,  and  is  equally  intelligible. 

The  connexion  of  gesture  is,  therefore,  the  relation 
which  one  gesture  bears  to  another ;  and  it  is  shown 
by  the  notation  of  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
agree,  and  of  those  in  which  they  differ.  Thus,  the 
gestures  noted  in  the  foregoing  line  agree,  first,  in 
being  common  to  both  hands  (B),  and  then  in  the  posi- 
tion of  each  hand,  v  (vertical),  and  also  in  the  elevation 
of  both  arms,  h  (horizontal).  So  that  it  is  unnecessary 
to  repeat  those  circumstances  in  which  they  agree,  as 
the  connecting-dash  expresses  them  with  sufficient 
clearness,  and  with  greater  brevity. 

The  connexion  of  gesture  in  the  vertical  direction, 
when  the  hand,  without  altering  its  posture,  merely 
ascends  by  short  intervals,  in  order  to  mark  a  succes- 
sion of  discriminating  gestures,  is  noted  by  the  usual 
connecting-dash,  and  an  a  over  the  word  where  the 
hand  ascends. 

*  The  letters,  ohc,  signify,  the  hand  outwards,  the  arm  hori 
zontal  across ;  x  rj,  extended  rejecting. 

f  Bvhfrt,  both  hands  vertical,  both  arms  horizontal  forwards  re- 
tracting ;  Bvhfp,  both  hands  vertical,  both  arms  horizontal  forwards 
pushing ;  Bvhx,  both  hands  vertical,  both  arms  horizontal  extended. 


GESTURE. 


I  mourn  the   pride 

•nef—       ahfat  — 


And   avarice   that   make   man  a   wolf  to  man.  —  Cowper. 

But  this  passage  would  perhaps  answer  better  with 
the  auxiliary  gesture,  thus : 

Bphfa  vef  — 

I   mourn  the   pride 

—  vef  Bnef  bn  —  Bshf  st        R 

And  avarice  that  make  man  a   wolf  to  man.* 

The  transition  of  gesture  relates  to  the  manner  of 
arriving  at  a  gesture,  arid  to  the  changes  of  gesture ; 
and  signifies  either  the  particular  changes  of  the  posi- 
tion of  the  hand  and  arm,  or  the  general  change  of  the 
principal  gesture  from  one  hand  to  the  other. 

A  gesture  may  have  a  very  different  character  and 
effect,  according  to  the  manner  in  which  the  hand  ar- 
rives at  its  destined  point.  It  may  ascend,  descend, 
move  towards  the  right,  or  towards  the  left,  and  may 
also  make  the  stroke  with  various  degrees  of  energy, 
and  in  various  ways ;  and  these  motions  constitute,  in 
each,  an  absolutely  different  gesture,  though,  after  the 
moment  of  the  stroke,  which  a  painter  might  choose  to 
represent,  the  hand  and  arm  of  each  should  be  in  the 
same  precise  position.  (Fig.  85,  p.  100.)  As,  however, 
the  emphatic  ^stures  are  liable  to  ambiguity,  on  ac- 
count of  the  various  transitions  which  might  be  sup- 
posed to  bring  them  to  their  stroke,  painters  more  fre- 
quently choose  to  represent  the  suspending  gestures, 
which  give  an  idea  of  action,  and  greater  interest  to 
their  principal  figures. 

But  the  transition  of  gesture  particularly  relates  to 
the  change  of  the  principal  gesture  from  one  hand  to 

*  Bphf  a,  both  hands  prone  horizontal  forwards  ascending ; 
vef  (followed  by  a  dash),  right  hand  vertical  elevated  forwards ; 
vef  (preceded  by  a  daeh),  left  hand  vertical  elevated  forwards; 
Bnefbn,  both  hands  natural  elevated  forwards  bending;  Bshfst, 
both  hands  supine  horizontal  forwards  striking. 


118  ELOCUTION. 

the  other ;  which  may  be  regulated,  in  some  measure, 
according  to  the  following  principles.  So  long  as  there 
subsists  a  strict  connexion  between  the  sentiments,  un- 
interrupted by  any  considerable  pause,  or  change  of 
persons,  no  transition  can  take  place  in  this  last  sense : 
the  same  hand  which  began,  continues  to  perform  the 
principal  gesture.  And  the  variety  which  it  is  always 
desirable  to  produce,  must  not  be  attempted  by  the 
change  of  the  principal  gesture :  it  must  arise  alone 
from  the  graceful  and  well-regulated  action  of  the  ad- 
vanced hand,  supported  by  the  combined  assistance  or 
accompaniment  of  the  other.  If  the  passage  to  be  pro- 
nounced be  of  considerable  length,  the  right  hand  should 
perform  the  principal  gesture  throughout  the  whole  of 
it.  For  the  left,  though  allowed  to  take  its  place  oc- 
casionally, according  to  certain  rules,  by  no  means 
arrives  at  an  equality  of  honour.  The  right  hand 
always  continues  the  better  hand,  both  from  long  pre- 
scription, and  the  ability  arising  from  use. 

In  the  narrative  parts  of  an  oration,  where  different 
persons  or  things  are  to  be  described  as  variously  dis- 
posed, or  in  the  recitation  of  descriptive  poetry,  when 
a  picture,  as  it  were,  is  to  be  represented  by  the  speaker, 
consisting  of  many  natural  objects  in  different  parts  of 
a  landscape,  of  which  Gray's  Elegy  in  a  Country 
Church-yard  will  afford  many  example^the  right  hand 
having  first  pointed  out  those  persons  or  objects  sup- 
posed to  lie  adjacent  to  itself,  may  yield  to  the  left  the 
arrangement  and  ordering  of  those  other  parts,  which 
may  be  imagined  to  be  at  its  own  side.  This  inter- 
change, judiciously  regulated,  produces  a  pleasing  va- 
riety in  the  gesture;  and  if  the  speaker  possess  the 
imagination  of  a  painter,  his  disposition  and  colouring 
will  produce  the  most  distinct  and  vivid  picture. 

Variety,  which  is  a  most  important  object  to  be  kept 
in  view  by  a  public  speaker,  allows,  with  advantage, 
an  interchange  of  the  principal  gesture,  even  when  the 
subject  may  be  of  a  more  abstruse  and  demonstrative 


GESTURE.  11!) 

nature.  When  there  is  any  opposition,  or  antithesis, 
among  the  ideas,  or  even  in  the  structure  of  sentences, 
or  where  a  new  argument  is  introduced,  after  the  dis- 
cussion of  a  former  is  ended,  as  at  a  new  division,  or  a 
new  paragraph,  there  may  be  a  change  of  the  principal 
gesture.  But  it  will  be  a  point  of  judgment  and  taste 
in  the  speaker  not  to  carry  this  balancing,  or  alterna- 
tion of  gesture,  to  an  affected  extreme,  and  not,  even  in 
allowable  cases,  to  indulge  in  it  overmuch ;  nor  will  he 
prolong  too  far  the  principal  action  permitted  to  the 
left  hand,  which  he  will  always  remember  is  the  weaker, 
and  admitted  into  the  foremost  place  rather  by  courtesy 
than  of  right ;  and  which  he  will,  therefore,  restrict 
with  discretion  in  the  exercise  of  this  occasional  dis- 
tinction. 

In  the  changes  made  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  the 
transition  should  be  managed  with  ease  and  simplicity. 
As  soon  as  the  advanced  hand  has  made  the  stroke  of 
its  last  emphatic  gesture,  it  should  fall  quietly  to  rest, 
whilst,  at  the  same  time,  the  hand  which  is,  in  its  turn, 
to  assume  the  principal  action,  commences  its  prepara- 
tion for  the  ensuing  gesture.  It  will  be  observed  that 
a  commencing,  or  discriminating  gesture,  should  be 
gentle,  as  a  modest  beginning  suits  its  first  entrance 
into  authority.  An  emphatic  gesture  immediately  after 
one  from  the  other  hand,  would  be  violent  and  out- 
rageous ;  something  like  the  gesticulations  of  those 
little  wooden  figures  set  up  to  frighten  birds  from  corn, 
or  fruit,  which  have  the  arms  fixed  on  an  axis  in  such 
a  manner  that  they  are  alternately  raised  and  depressed 
with  equal  vehemence,  according  as  they  are  blown 
about  by  the  wind. 

When  the  orator  finds  it  necessary  to  change  the 
position  of  the  feet,  so  as  to  advance  that  which  was 
before  retired,  the  general  rule  is  that  he  should  effect 
it  imperceptibly,  and  not  commence  the  change  till 
after  the  hand  has  begun  its  change  of  action.  Some- 
times, however,  in  vehement  passages,  the  oratoi  i» 


120  ELOCUTION. 

allowed,  by  the  highest  authority,  to  advance  suddenly 
and  even  to  stamp. 

The  subordinate  gesture,  already  mentioned,  as  performed  by  the 
retired  hand,  will  be  found  to  bear  a  close  analogy  to  accompani- 
ment in  music.  A  little  observation  will  suffice  for  acquiring  a 
general  knowledge  of  the  accompaniment  of  gesture ;  and  after 
attentively  practising  for  some  time,  the  inferior  hand  will  as  easily 
fall  into  a  suitable  accompaniment  of  the  principal  gesture,  as  the 
left  hand  of  a  performer  on  a  keyed  instrument,  will  strike  correctly 
the  fundamental  bass. 

The  general  rule  for  accompaniment  of  gesture,  in 
calm  and  moderate  speaking,  when  both  hands  do  not 
perform  the  same  gesture,  is  that  the  retired  arm  should 
be  about  one  interval  less  raised  than  the  advanced 
arm,  and  that  in  the  transverse  position  it  should  be 
distant  from  it  about  two  intervals,  or  a  right  angle. 
Hence,  if  the  right  hand  should  perform  the  principal 
gesture,  and  this  gesture  should  be  supine  elevated  for- 
wards, the  accompaniment  would  be  expressed  in  the 

second  set  of  letters,  for  the  left  hand,  thus :  sef-~shx 

pnn.  ac. 

(Fig.  38) ;  and  again,  vhf~~  pdx,  (Fig.  33).   When  the 
pnn.     ac. 

force  of  the  expression  is  strong,  the  accompanying 
hand  is  equally  elevated  with  the  principal.  In  this 
degree  of  force,  the  gestures  are  thus :  vhf —  vhx. 
These  circumstances  afford  convenient  opportunities 
for  abridging  the  notation.  When  both  hands  perform 
the  same,  or  nearly  the  same  gesture,  a  capkal  B  pre- 
ceding one  set  of  letters  suffices  for  both  hands,  as  Bvhf 
And  when  the  accompanying  gesture  follows  the  gene- 
ral rule,  and  has  nothing  remarkable  distinguishing  it, 
the  gesture  of  the  principal  hand  only  need  be  noted; 
the  accompaniment  is  easily  understood,  and  will  fol- 
low of  course  to  the  well-practised  speaker. 

But  besides  the  motions  of  the  subordinate  gesture, 
other  very  important  accompaniments  are  to  be  at- 
tended to;  as  those  of  the  lower  limbs,  of  the  body, 
and  of  the  head :  otherwise  the  performance  will  he 


GESTURE.  121 

••igid  and  absurd,  like  that  of  a  puppet.  Indeed,  not 
only  those  more  prominent  and  distinguished  parts 
must  accompany  the  voice  and  principal  action  of  the 
speaker,  but  every  muscle  of  the  body,  and  every  ex- 
pression of  the  countenance,  must  join  in  harmony  with 
those  gestures,  in  order  to  impress  upon  them  the  cha- 
racter of  nature  and  truth.  There  is  no  gesture,  or 
change  of  gesture,  which  is  not  meant  to  enforce  or  to 
illustrate  some  new  circumstance,  which  either  calls 
into  action  muscles  before  at  rest,  or  into  a  change  of 
action  those  already  in  exertion.  And  this  impression 
and  influence  extend  not  only  to  those  muscles  which 
are  most  strong  and  distinguished,  but  even  to  the  most 
delicate  fibres  of  the  human  frame,  such  as  those  which 
adjust  the  expression  of  the  mouth,  of  the  nostrils,  of 
the  brows,  and  of  that  wonderful  organ  the  eye. 

An  example  may  here  be  given  of  some  of  the  stronger 
changes  of  the  head,  body,  and  lower  limbs,  which  ac- 
company certain  principal  gestures.  If  the  right  hand 
be  forcibly  withdrawn,  and  presented  vhfc  (vertical 
horizontal  forwards  contracted),  the  left  vdqc  (vertical 
do wn wards  oblique  contracted),  the 
feet  will  naturally  retire,  and  be 
rRlx  (retire  to  the  first  position 
extended  of  the  right  foot).  The 
body,  at  the  same  time,  will  be 
thrown  backwards,  whilst  the  whole 
countenance  will  express  aversion, 
or  horror.  (Fig.  95). 

The  gesture  of  the  right,  phf  ad, 
will  be  accompanied  and  noted  thus: 


the  head,  and  consequently  the  body,  ^  95 

leans  forwards,  and  that  the  eyes  are  turned  earnest!)' 
in  the  same  direction.     This  evident  desire  of  inspect 
ing  the  object  more  nearly,  is  also  accompanied  by  an 
advanced  step  of  the  right  foot,  the  principal  gesture 
11 


122  ELOCUTION. 

being  performed  by  the  right  hand.  As  the  gesture 
of  the  left  hand  could  hardly  be  avoided,  under  the 
circumstances  mentioned,  the  notation  of  it  might  have 
been  omitted. 

It  will  be  observed,  that  if  the  hand,  in  its  gestures, 

at  any  time 
approach 
the  head, 
the  head 
bends  to- 
wards the 
hand  ;  and 
if  the  hand 
presents  its 
palm,  and 
pushes,  as  it 
were,  an  ob- 
ject away 

97  in     disgust, 

the  head  accompanies  the  action,  not  only  by  retiring 
back,  but  by  averting  the  face.  And  the  motions  ex- 
pressing this  aversion  are  ;  first,  the  eye,  directed  to- 
wards the  object  ;  the  approaching  of  the  back  of  the 
hand  towards  the  face,  and  the  head  bending  towards 
the  hand,  and  then  the  pushing  forwards  of  the  palm 
of  the  hand,  and  the  throwing  back  of  the  head,  and 
averting  the  face  at  the  same  time.  The  notation  will 

stand  thus  :  F  vhfc~,  (Fig.  96),  and  then,  A 


, 
rH\x 

(Fig.  97). 

After  the  stroke  of  the  emphatic  gesture,  if  the 
speaker  has  completely  closed  his  remarks  on  a  par- 
ticular part  of  his  subject,  or  if  he  has  finished  his  ora- 
tion, both  hands  should  fall  to  rest,  in  a  manner  suiting 
the  last  expressions  which  he  has  delivered.  This 
falling  of  the  hand  to  rest  is  named  the  close  and  ter- 
mination of  gesture.  It  is  contrary  to  the  correct  sim- 
plicity of  gesture  to  mark  a  single  word  or  idea  with 


GESTURE.  123 

more  than  one  emphatic  stroke ;  any  appendix  of  ges- 
ture, after  this,  would  only  weaken  its  force,  or  render 
it  ridiculous. 

The  termination  of  gesture,  or  rather,  the  emphatic 
gesture  which  terminates,  should  not  be  made  across. 
It  is  generally  made  about  the  horizontal  elevation,  but 
sometimes  it  is  made  downwards, or  elevated,  according 
to  the  sentiment.  The  horizontal  termination  suits 
decision  and  instruction ;  the  downward,  disapproba- 
tion and  condemnation ;  the  elevated,  pride,  high  pas- 
sion and  devotion. 


CHAPTER  X. 

«, 

THE     FREQUENCY,     MODERATION,     AND     INTERMISSION     OP 
GESTURE. 

As  gesture  is  used  for  the  illustration  or  enforce- 
ment of  language,  it  should  be  limited,  in  its  applica- 
tion, to  such  words  and  passages  only  as  admit,  or 
rather  require,  such  illustration  or  enforcement.  That 
is,  gesture  should  not  be  used  by  a  public  speaker  on 
every  word  where  it  is  possible  to  apply  it  without 
manifest  impropriety ;  but  it  should  rather  be  reserved 
for  such  passages  as  require  to  be  rendered  more  pro- 
minent than  the  others,  and  to  be  more  highly  coloured. 
A  judicious  speaker  will  therefore  reserve  his  gesture, 
at  least  the  force  and  ornament  of  it,  for  those  parts  of 
his  discourse  for  which  he  also  reserves  the  brilliancy 
of  language  and  thought.  Sometimes,  the  absolute 
intermission  of  gesture  is  advantageous,  as  in  the  com- 
mencement or  opening  of  arguments.  When  an  argu- 
ment is  nearly  concluded,  moderate  gesture  will  give 
it  more  force,  and  relieve  the  monotony  of  a  mere  dry 
demonstration,  should  the  spirit  of  the  composition 
admit  such  addition. 

In  all  discourses,  the  frequency  of  gesture  will  be 


124  ELOCUTION. 

determined,  in  general,  by  the  number,  the  novelty,  and 
the  discrimination  of  ideas.  In  every  well-constructed 
sentence,  some  new  idea  is  advanced,  which  may  be 
marked  by  a  suitable  gesture  ;  and  possibly  the  various 
limitations  and  modifications  of  it  will  also  admit  of  a 
similar  distinction.  Thus  each  separate  clause,  or 
member  of  a  sentence,  may  admit  a  distinct  gesture  on 
the  principal  word ;  arid  as  each  epithet  is  a  distinct 
quality,  added  to  the  principal  name,  and  as  each  ad- 
verb has  the  same  effect  on  the  principal  action  ex- 
pressed by  the  verb,  a  new  gesture  may  be  made  on 
each.  But  for  this  purpose,  unless  the  word  is  empha- 
tic, a  turn  of  the  hand,  a  small  motion  in  the  trans- 
verse or  vertical  direction,  or  a  slight  inclination  of  the 
head,  is  sufficient. 

In  a  sentence  where  every  word  is  emphatic,  each 
may  be  marked  with  a  gesture.  Sentences  of  this  kind 
generally  condense,  in  a  small  compass,  valuable  infor- 
mation, and  should  therefore  be  strongly  enforced  and 
marked  with  precision.  They  should,  however,  be 
delivered  distinctly  and  deliberately,  or  the  gestures 
will  confuse  the  sentiment,  and  even  cast  a  degree  of 
ridicule  upon  it,  as  may  be  found  by  pronouncing  the 
following  serious  observation  with  different  degrees  of 
rapidity. 

shf—  nef—  shfst  — 

Man     is     born     to     trouble. 

com.  susp.  emph.  $  ter. 

Neither  the  emphatic  gesture,  nor  the  force  of  the 
voice,  always  falls  on  those  words  which  are  the  prin- 
cipal, in  a  grammatical  sense  —  the  nouns  and  verbs. 
The  gesture  sometimes  falls  on  the  word  which  modi- 
fies each  —  on  the  adjective,  which  expresses  the 
quality  of  the  noun,  or  on  the  adverb,  which  has  a 
similar  effect  upon  the  action  or  assertion  of  the  verb. 

The  same  notation,  applied  to  a  vehement  passage 
requires  the  arm  to  be  raised  higher  than  when  it  is 
apolied  to  one  of  the  contrary  character.  A  judicious 


GESTURE.  125 

speaker  will  often  omit  his  gesture  altogether,  and  use 
it  only  when  absolutely  necessary  to  illustrate,  or  to 
enforce  his  sentiments.  Gesture  may  be  said  to  hold 
the  place  of  high  seasoning;  it  must,  therefore,  be 
managed  with  discretion,  lest  it  should  defeat  its  own 
purposes,  and  create  disgust.  If  a  speaker  proves 
truly  eloquent,  he  is  sure  of  the  most  liberal  and  solid 
approbation.  But  he  should  not  hazard  too  much ;  he 
should  be  guarded  in  the  commencement  of  his  dis- 
course, and  should  restrain  his  gesture  in  the  calm  and 
reasoning  passages,  reserving  its  force  and  brilliancy 
for  the  appropriate  expression  of  his  most  earnest  feel- 
ings and  boldest  thoughts.  His  transitions  from  the 
narrative  parts  to  those  which  are  most  highly  wrought, 
and  which  require  his  utmost  exertions,  should  be  gra- 
dual and  just,  and  free  from  extravagance. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   QUALITIES   OF    GESTURE,    AND   THE    GESTURE    SUITED 
TO    DIFFERENT    MODES   OF    PUBLIC    SPEAKING. 

THE  different  qualities  which  constitute  the  perfec- 
tion of  gesture,  and  their  opposite  imperfections,  are  as 
follows : 

1.  Magnificence.  5.  Simplicity. 

2.  Boldness.  6.  Grace. 

3.  Energy.  7.  Propriety. 

4.  Variety.  8.  Precision. 

1.  Magnificence  of  gesture.  This  is  effected  by  de- 
taching the  elbow  completely  from  the  body,  and 
unfolding  the  whole  oratorical  weapon.  In  magnifi- 
cent gesture,  the  action  is  flowing  and  unconstrained ; 
the  preparations  are  made  in  graceful  curves;  the 
transitions  are  easy,  and  the  accompaniments,  in  all 
respects,  illustrative  of  the  principal  action.  The  mo- 
ll* 


126  ELOCUTION. 

tions  of  the  head  are  free,  and  the  inflections  of  the 
body  manly  and  dignified.  The  action  of  the  lower 
limbs  is  decisive,  and  a  considerable  space  is  traversed 
with  firmness  and  with  force. 

The  opposite  imperfections  are  short  and  constrained 
gestures,  rigidity  of  the  joints,  and  stiffness  of  the  body, 
with  short  steps,  and  doubtful  or  timid  movements. 

2.  Boldness  of  gesture.     This  arises  from  that  ele- 
vated courage  and  self-confidence  which  ventures  to 
hazard  any  action,  however  unusual,  which  is  produc- 
tive of  a  grand  or  striking  effect.     In  this  sort  of  ges- 
ture, unexpected  positions,  elevations  and  transitions, 
surprise  at  once  by  their  novelty  and  grace,  and  thus 
illustrate  or  enforce  the  ideas  of  the  speaker  with  irre- 
sistible effect. 

The  opposite  imperfection  is  tameness. 

3.  Energy  of  gesture.     This  consists  in  the  firmness 
and  decision  of  the  whole  action ;  and  in  the  precision 
of  the  stroke  of  the  gesture,  which  aids  the  emphasis 
of  the  voice. 

The  opposite  imperfections  are  feebleness  and  inde- 
cision. 

4.  Variety  of  gesture.     This  consists  in  the  applica- 
tion of  different,  but  appropriate  gestures,  to  the  same, 
or  analogous  sentiments,  so  as  to  avoid  recurring  too 
frequently  to  one  favourite  gesture,  or  set  of  gestures. 

The  opposite  imperfection  is  monotony-  of  gesture, 
analogous  to  that  of  the  voice. 

5.  Simplicity  of  gesture.     This  is  such  a  character 
of  gesture  as  appears  the  natural  result  of  the  situation 
and  sentiments ;  which  is  neither  carried  beyond  the 
just  extent  of  the  feeling,  through  affectation  of  variety, 
nor  falls  short  of  it  through  want  of  confidence. 

The  opposite  imperfection  is  affectation. 

6.  Grace  of  gesture.     This  is  the  result  of  all  other 
perfections,  arising  from  a  dignified  self-possession  of 
mind,  and  the  power  of  personal   exertion,  practised 
into  facility  after  the  best  models,  and  according  to 


GESTURE.  127 

true   taste.     To  the  more  particular  investigation  of 
this  quality  a  Chapter  is  devoted. 

The  opposite  imperfection  is  awkwardness. 

7.  Propriety  of  gesture,  called  also  truth  of  gesture, 
or  natural  gesture.     This  consists  in  the  judicious  use 
of  gestures  best  suited  to  illustrate  or  to  express  the 
sentiment.     Propriety  of  gesture  is  generally  founded 
on  some  natural  connexion  between  the  sentiment  and 
the  action.     Significant  gestures  are  strictly  connected 
with  the  sentiment. 

The  opposite  imperfections  are  false,  contradictory, 
or  unsuitable  gestures. 

8.  Precision,  or  correctness  of  gesture.     This  arises 
from  the  just  preparation,  the  due  force,  and  the  cor- 
rect timing  of  the  action :  when  the  preparation  is  nei- 
ther too  much  abridged,  nor  too  pompously  displayed ; 
when  the  stroke  of  the  gesture  is  made  with  such  a 
degree  of  force  as  suits  the  character  of  the  sentiment ; 
and  when  it  is  correctly  marked  on  the  precise  syllable 
to  be  enforced.     Precision  of  gesture  gives  the  same 
effect  to  action,  as  neatness  of  articulation  gives  to 
speech. 

The  opposite  imperfections  are  the  indecision,  un- 
certainty, and  incorrectness  arising  from  vague  and 
sawing  gestures,  which,  far  from  illustrating,  render 
doubtful  the  sense  of  the  sentiments  which  they  accom- 
pany, and  distract  the  spectator. 

There  are  three  general  modes  of  public  speaking, 
each  of  which  requires  a  different  style  of  gesture ; 
namely, 

1.  The  Epic.  3.  The  Colloquial. 

2.  The  Rhetorical. 

1.  Epic  gesture  demands  every  natural  and  acquired 
power,  on  the  part  of  the  speaker :  to  it  belong  Magni- 
ficence, Boldness,  Energy,  Variety,  Simplicity,  Grace, 
Propriety,  and  Precision.  The  compositions  which 
require  epic  gesture,  in  delivery,  are  tragedy,  epic 
poetry,  lyric  odes,  and  sublime  description. 


128  ELOCUTION. 

2.  Rhetorical  gesture  requires,  principally,  Energy 
Variety,  Simplicity,  and  Precision.    Grace  is  desirable ; 
Magnificence  is  rarely  wanting,  but  may  sometimes 
have  place.     Propriety,  in  a  limited  sense,  should  be 
observed.     Boldness  is  inadmissible ;  because  the  ora- 
tor is  not,  like  the  player,  subjected  to  any  unexpected 
circumstances.     He  is  not,  therefore,  at  liberty  to  ex- 
press surprise,  or  any  other  passion,  by  bold  gestures 
or  attitudes. 

3.  Colloquial  gesture,  when  concerned  in  the  higher 
scenes  of  polite  life,  requires,  principally,  Simplicity 
and  Grace ;  Precision  will  follow  of  course ;  it  may  oc- 
casionally demand  something  of  Energy  and  Variety 
Magnificence  and  Boldness  are  inadmissible. 

The  gesture  of  the  public  speaker  must  vary  con- 
siderably with  the  different  circumstances  of  his  situa- 
tion, of  his  sentiments,  and  of  his  audience.  If  the 
mere  information  or  instruction  of  his  audience  be  his 
sole  object,  as  when  the  evidences  of  religion  and  the 
grounds  of  Christian  duties  are  to  be  explained  from 
the  pulpit,  or  when  the  details  of  calculation  and  finance 
are  to  be  laid  before  Congress,  or  when  facts  are 
weighed  and  laws  are  argued  in  the  courts  of  justice, 
his  gestures  should  be  of  that  class  which  is  called  dis- 
criminating gestures.  These -he  should  exercise  with 
simplicity  and  precision.  He  should  strip  them  of  all 
the  parade  of  preparation,  and  of  the  graces  of  transi- 
tion, and  give  them  only  that  degree  of  variety  which 
shall  guard  them  against  disgusting  sameness.  This 
is  far  removed  from  theatrical  gesture ;  it  rather  ap- 
proaches the  colloquial  style.  Nothing  could  be  more 
incongruous  than  for  a  public  speaker,  in  either  of  the 
foregoing  situations,  to  introduce  the  parade  and  mag- 
nificence of  theatrical  gesture.  The  charge  which  is 
sometimes  made  against  public  speakers,  of  being  thea- 
trical in  their  gesture,  probably  arises  more  from  some 
unsuitableness  in  their  manner  to  the  matter,  than  from 
any  thing  of  uncommon  majesty,  boldness,  or  grace  in 
their  action. 


GESTURE.  U9 

When  the  public  speaker  aims  at  persuasion,  as  in 
discourses  from  the  pulpit  for  public  charities,  or  on 
extraordinary  occasions  in  Congress,  or  at  the  bar, 
when  the  advocate  desires  to  influence  the  opinions  of 
a  jury,  he  will  naturally  use  more  graceful,  more  flow- 
ing, and  more  varied  gesture.  But  he  should  not  fall 
into  the  action  of  the  theatre.  He  may  be  graceful, 
but  he  should  be  simple ;  he  may  be  energetic,  but  he 
should  not  affect  gestures  too  strongly  significant,  much 
less  attempt  surprise  by  attitudes.  All  his  gestures 
should  be  regulated  by  manly  decorum,  suitable  to  his 
situation,  to  the  character  of  his  hearers,  and  to  the 
just  expression  of  his  sentiments. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SIGNIFICANT    GESTURES. 

THE  most  important  of  the  significant  gestures  are 
the  following : 

The  Head  and  Face. 

The  hanging  down  of  the  head  denotes  shame,  or 
grief. 

The  holding  of  it  up,  pride  or  courage. 

To  nod  forwards  implies  assent. 

To  toss  the  head  back,  dissent. 

The  inclination  of  the  head  implies  diffidence  or  lan- 
guor. 

The  head  is  averted,  in  dislike  or  horror. 

It  leans  forward,  in  attention. 

The  Eyes. 

The  eyes  are  raised,  in  prayer. 

They  weep,  in  sorrow. 

They  burn,  in  anger. 

They  are  downcast  or  averted,  in  shame  or  grief 

i 


130  ELOCUTION. 

They  are  cast  on  vacancy,  in  thought. 

They  are  cast  in  various  directions,  in  doubt  and 
anxiety. 

The  Arms. 

The  placing  of  the  hand  on  the  head,  indicates  pain 
or  distress. 

On  the  eyes,  shame  or  sorrow. 

On  the  lips,  an  injunction  of  silence. 

On  the  breast,  an  appeal  to  conscience. 

The  hand  is  waved,  or  flourished,  in  joy  or  contempt. 

Both  hands  are  held  supine,  or  they  are  applied,  or 
clasped,  in  prayer. 

Both  are  held  prone,  in  blessing. 

They  are  clasped,  or  wrung,  in  affliction. 

They  are  held  forward,  and  received,  in  friendship. 

The  Body. 

The  body,  held  erect,  indicates  steadiness  and  courage. 
Thrown  back,  pride. 

Stooping  forward,  condescension  or  compassion. 
Bending,  reverence  or  respect. 
Prostration,  the  utmost  humility  or  abasement. 

The  Lower  Limbs. 

The  firm  position  of  the  lower  limbs  signifies  courage, 
or  obstinacy. 

Bended  knees  indicate  timidity,  or  weakness. 

The  lower  limbs  advance,  in  desire  or  courage. 

They  retire,  in  aversion  or  fear. 

Start,  in  terror. 

Stamp,  in  authority  or  anger. 

Kneel,  in  submission  and  prayer. 

These  are  a  few  of  the  simple  gestures  which  may 
be  termed  significant. 


131 


GESTURE. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

GRACE. 

- 

"  GRACE,"  says  lord  Kames,  "  may  be  defined,  that 
agreeable  appearance  which  arises  from  elegance  of 
motion,  and  from  a  countenance  expressive  of  dignity. 
Expressions  of  other  mental  qualities  are  not  essential 
to  that  appearance,  but  they  heighten  it  greatly." 

The  gracefulness  of  rhetorical  action  depends  partly 
on  the  person,  and  partly  on  the  mind.  Some  are  so 
happily  formed  that  all  their  motions  are  graceful  ;* 
and  some  minds  are  so  noble,  that  they  impart  genu- 
ine grace  to  the  most  uncouth  forms :  both  these  cases, 
however,  are  comparatively  rare. 

Grace,  like  the  ideal  beauty  of  the  painter,  and  of 
the  sculptor,  is  not  commonly  to  be  found  in  the  indi- 
vidual living  model,  but  to  be  collected  from  the  various 
excellencies  of  the  many. 

Neither  true  grace,  nor  consummate  eloquence,  can 
be  acquired  by  those  who  are  totally  deficient  in  natu- 
ral qualifications;  yet  they  to  whom  nature  has  not 
denied  some  portion  of  talents,  may  improve  in  both, 
precisely  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  their  application. 

The  grace  of  oratorical  action  consists,  chiefly,  in 
the  facility,  the  freedom,  the  variety,  and  the  simplicity 
of  those  gestures  which  illustrate  the  discourse. 

Action,  to  be  graceful,  should  be  performed  with 
facility ;  because  the  appearance  of  great  effort  is  in- 
compatible with  ease,  which  is  a  constituent  of  grace. 
It  should  also  be  performed  with  freedom :  no  gestures 
can  be  graceful  which  are  either  confined  by  external 
circumstances,  or  restrained  by  the  mind.  If  an  orator 
should  address  an  assembly  from  a  narrow  window,  it 

*  Grace  was  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye, 
In  every  action,  dignity  and  love.  —  Milton. 


132  ELOCUTION. 

would  be  in  vain  for  him  to  attempt  graceful  gesture. 
Confinement,  in  any  less  degree,  is  proportionably  in- 
jurious to  grace.  Thus,  the  crowded  courts,  which 
impede  the  motions  of  the  advocate,  and  the  enclosed 
pulpit,  which  not  unfrequently  conceals  more  than  half 
the  preacher's  figure,  are  equally  injurious  to  graceful 
action.  Greece,  the  native  soil  of  manly  eloquence 
and  true  taste,  was  not  the  originator  of  the  pulpit. 

The  restraint  arising  from  diffidence  is  also  prejudi- 
cial to  grace.  It  has,  however,  thts  advantage  —  :  t 
may  be  effectually  corrected  by  perseverance. 

For  the  maintenance  of  grace,  in  rhetorical  action, 
variety  is  indispensable.  The  iteration  of  the  same 
gesture,  or  set  of  gestures,  however  graceful  in  them- 
selves, betrays  a  poverty  of  resource  which  is  altoge- 
ther prejudicial  to  the  speaker. 

Simplicity  and  truth  of  manner,  if  they  do  not  con- 
stitute grace  in  themselves,  are  inseparable  from  it. 
Gestures  which  are  manifestly  contrived  for  the  mere 
display  of  the  person,  or  for  the  exhibition  of  some  fop- 
pery, as,  for  instance,  a  fine  ring,  instantly  offend. 

To  simplicity  of  gesture  is  opposed  affectation,  which 
destroys  every  pretension  to  genuine  grace.  The  more 
showy  the  gestures  are,  unless  they  are  adapted  to  the 
subject,  and  to  the  character  of  the  speaker,  the  more  do 
they  offend  the  judicious  by  their  manifest  affectation. 
When  the  profligate  speaks  of  piety,  the  miser  of  gene- 
rosity, the  coward  of  valour,  and  the  corrupt  of  integ- 
rity, they  are  only  the  more  despised  by  those  who 
know  them. 

The  faults  of  manner  are  analogous  to  those  of  cha- 
racter, and  almost  equally  disgusting :  such  as  the 
assumption  of  dignity  where  there  is  none  in  the  senti- 
ment ;  pathos,  where  there  is  nothing  interesting ;  vehe- 
mence in  trifles,  and  solemnity  upon  common-place 
subjects. 

It  is  an  observation  founded  in  fact,  that  the  action 
of  young  children  is  never  deficient  in  grace ;  for  which 


GESTURE.  133 

two  reasons  may  be  assigned ;  first,  because  they  are 
under  no  restraint  from  diffidence,  or  from  any  other 
cause,  and  therefore  use  their  gestures,  with  all  sin- 
cerity of  heart,  only  to  aid  the  expression  of  their 
thoughts ;  and,  secondly,  because  they  have  few  ideas 
of  imitation,  and  consequently  are  not  deprived  of 
natural  grace  by  affectation,  nor  perverted  by  bad 
models. 

The  grace  of  action,  according  to  Hogarth,  consists 
in  moving  the  body  and  limbs  in  that  curve  which  he 
calls  the  line  of  beauty.*  When  action  is  considered 
independent  of  language  and  sentiment,  this  definition 
will,  perhaps,  be  found  generally  correct.  Rhetorical 
action,  however,  derives  its  grace,  not  only  from  the 
actual  motions  of  the  speaker,  but  also  from  the  con- 
gruity  of  his  motions  with  his  own  character  and  situa- 
tion, as  well  as  with  the  sentiments  which  he  delivers. 
The  dignity  which  is  a  becoming  grace  in  a  judge, 
would  be  quaint  affectation  in  a  young  advocate ;  and 
the  colloquial,  but  graceful  familiarity  of  action,  even 
of  the  most  polished  society,  would  be  highly  indeco- 
rous in  the  pulpit.  Hence,  it  must  be  admitted,  ac- 
cording to  the  just  maxim  of  Cicero  and  Quintilian, 
that  decorum  constitutes  true  oratorical  grace ;  and  that 
this  decorum  admits  of  great  variety  of  action,  under 
different  circumstances.  Vehement  action  is  sometimes 
both  decorous  and  graceful ;  so  also  are  abrupt  and 
short  gestures,  if  they  bear  the  impress  of  truth  and 
suitableness.  Such  are  the  gestures  of  an  old  man, 
when  he  is  irritated.  But  the  most  flowing  and  beau- 
tiful motions,  the  grandest  preparations,  and  the  finest 
transitions  of  gesture,  ill  applied,  and  out  of  time,  lose 
their  natural  character  of  grace,  and  become  indeco- 
rous, ridiculous,  or  offensive. 

*  See  HOGARTH'S  ANALYSIS  OF  BEAUTY. 
*     12 


134  ELOCUTION. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

SYNOPTICAL    ARRANGEMENT    OF    THE   NOTATION    LETTERS. 

Letters  written  above  the  Line,  relating  to  the  Fingers, 
the  Hands,  and  the  Arms. 

FIRST  SMALL  LETTER, 
Noting  the  disposition  of  the  Fingers. 

n,  natural.  A,  holding. 

c,  clinched.  to,  hollow. 
x,  extended.  m,  thumb. 

t,    index.  g,  grasping. 

Z,    collected. 

Noting  the  Manner  of  presenting  the  Palm. 

p,  prone.  »,  vertical. 

«,  supine.  /,  forwards, 

n,  inwards.  6,  backwards, 

o,  outwards. 

SECOND  SMALL  LETTER,  AND  TWO  CAPITALS, 
Noting  the  Elevation  of  the  Arms. 

d,  downwards.  Z,   zenith. 
A,   horizontal.                                  U,  rest, 

c,    elevated. 

THIRD  SMALL  LETTER, 
Noting  the  Posture  of  the  Arms  in  the  Transverse  Direction. 

c,  across.  a?,  extended. 
/,   forwards.  6,  backwards. 
q,  oblique. 

FOURTH  AND  FIFTH  SMALL  LETTER, 

Noting  the  Force  of  Motion  of  the  Hands  and  Arms. 

x,  extreme.       c,  contracted.       m,  moderate. 

Noting  the  Direction  of  Motion. 

a,  ascending.  r,  right. 

d,  descending.  2,    left 


GESTURE.  13fi 

f,  forwards.  i,  inwards. 

b,  backwards.  o,  outwards. 
vt  revolving. 

Noting  the  Manner  of  Motion, 

n,    noting.  pr,  pressing. 

p,     projecting,  or  pushing.  rt,  retracting. 

w,    waving.  rj,  rejecting. 

j0,    flourish.  bn,  bending. 

sw,  sweep.  re,  recoiling. 

bk,  beckoning.  sh,  shaking. 

rp,  repressing.  <A,  throwing. 

ad,  advancing.  cl,  clinching. 

sp,  springing.  II,  collecting. 
st,    striking. 

CAPITALS, 

Noting  the  Posture  of  the  Head,  and  Direction  of  the  Eyes 

I,     inclined.  F,  forwards. 

E,    erect  A,  averted. 

As,  assenting.  D,  downwards. 

Dn,  denying.  U,  upwards. 

Sh,  shaking.  R,  around. 

Ts,  tossing.  V,  vacancy. 
S,    aside. 

Letters  written  below  the  Line,  relating  to  the  Feet. 

CAPITAL  LETTERS  AND  NUMERALS, 

Noting  the  Positions  of  the  Feet. 

Rl,  right  foot,  1st  position.  RF,  right  front  position. 

R2,  right  foot,  2d  position.  LF,  left  front  position. 

LI,  left  foot,  1st  position.  K,  kneeling. 

L2,  left  foot,  2d  position.  S,  aside. 

SMALL  LETTERS  AND  ONE  CAPITAL, 
Noting  the  degree  of  Extension  of  the  Feet. 

x,     extended.  xx,  extended  extreme. 

mx,  moderately  extended.  C,    contracted. 

Letters  noting  Steps. 

a,  advance.  s,    start, 

r,   retire.  sp,  stamp. 

tr,  traverse.  sk,  shock. 

c,  cross. 


136  ELOCUTION. 

Letters  relating  to  Parts  on  which  the  Hand  may  be 

placed. 

E,    eyes.  jP,     forehead. 

N,     nose.  C,     chin. 

L,     lips.  br,    breast. 

The  Manner  of  combining  the  Fingers  of  both  Hands 
is  noted  by  two  Small  Letters. 

ap,  applied.  in,  inclosed. 

Ip,  clasped.  wr,  wringing. 

cr,  crossed.  tc,  touching. 

Id,  folded.  nu,  enumerating. 

The  Combinations  of  both  Arms. 
en,    encumbered.  km,    kimbo, 

pd,    reposed.  (either  one  or  both). 

Jt  capital  B,  preceding,  and  joined  to  a  set  of  small  let' 
ters,  signifies  that  both  Hands,  or  both  Arms,  perform 
the  same  Gesture. 

B,    both  hands,  or  both  arms. 

Significant  Gestures  and  Expressions  of  Countenance, 
may  be  noted  in  the  margin,  after  the  manner  of  Mr. 
Sheridan. 

Ap,  appealing.  Av,  aversion, 

At,  attention.  Cm,  commanding. 

Vn,  veneration.  Ad,  admiration. 

Ls,  listening.  Hr,  horror. 

Lm,  lamentation.  Gr,  grief. 

Dp,  deprecation.  Fr,  fear. 

Pr,  pride.  En,  encouraging ;    and 

Sh,  shame.  many  others  at  pleasure. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

APPLICATION    OF    THE    NOTATION    LETTERS. 

THE  most  complicated  gestures  are  those  which 
relate  to  the  combined  postures  and  motions  of  the 
hands  and  arms;  yet  these  are  expressed  with  suffi- 
cient accuracy  by  four,  or  fewer,  notation  letters  for 


GESTURE.  137 

each  movement.  For  this  purpose  they  are  divided 
into  four  classes ;  the  notation  letters  of  each  always 
preserve  their  own  place,  as  to  priority,  or  succession, 
and  derive  their  signification  from  it.  The  first  four, 
or  the  first  three  letters,  taken  together,  are  called  a 
set  of  letters.  In  a  set,  as  phfd,  or  seq  n, 

The  first  letter  relates  to  the  posture  of  the  hand. 

The  second,  to  the  elevation  of  the  arm. 

The  third,  to  the  transverse  situation  of  the  arm. 

The  fourth,  to  the  motion,  or  force  of  the  gesture.* 

Thus,  phfd  is  to  be  read,  prone  horizontal  forward 
descending.  Prone,  is  the  posture  of  the  hand  ;  hori- 
zontal, is  the  elevation  of  the  arm ;  forward,  is  the  pos- 
ture of  the  arm  in  the  transverse  direction ;  and  de- 
scending, means  that  the  arm  descends  from  a  higher 
elevation.  The  set,  seq  n,  is  read  supine  elevated  oblique 
noting.  Supine,  the  posture  of  the  hand ;  elevated,  the 
arm,  as  to  elevation ;  oblique,  the  arm  in  the  transverse 
direction ;  noting,  the  action  of  the  hand  and  arm. 

As  both  hands  and  both  arms  are  equally  capable 
of  executing  any  gesture,  the  letters,  and  sets  of  letters, 
relate  to  both  indifferently.  But  they  are  thus  distin- 
guished :  when  there  are  two  sets  of  small  letters,  the 
first  set  denotes  the  gesture  of  the  right  hand  and  arm ; 
the  second,  those  of  the  left.  The  two  sets  are  sepa- 
rated by  a  short  dash,  thus  :  phq — pdb,  prone  horizon- 
tal oblique,  the  right  hand;  and  prone  downwards  back- 
wards, the  left. 

When  only  a  single  set  of  three,  four,  or  five  small 
letters  is  marked,  the  gesture  of  one  hand  only  is  ex- 
pressed ;  that  of  the  other  is  presumed  to  be  easily 
supplied,  according  to  the  rules  of  accompaniment.  A 
short  dash  always  accompanies  a  single  set  of  small 
letters  —  when  the  dash  follows  the  letters,  they  denote 
the  gesture  of  the  right  hand ;  when  the  dash  precedes 
the  letters,  they  denote  the  gesture  of  the  left  hand. 

*  This  last  letter  is  often  omitted. 
12* 


138  ELOCUTION. 

When  a  set  of  small  letters  is  preceded  by  a  capital 
B,  the  gesture  which  they  represent  is  to  be  performed 
by  both  hands. 

When  a  long  dash  follows  the  small  letters,  connect- 
ing them  with  other  small  letters,  or  with  a  single  one, 
farther  on,  a  change  of  gesture  is  marked,  which  is  to 
take  place  on  the  word  over  which  such  letter  or  let- 
ters are  placed  ;  and  the  commencement  and  termina- 
tion of  the  dash  mark  the  commencement  and  termina- 
tion of  the  gesture. 

When  a  set  of  small  letters,  having  a  dash,  is  con- 
nected by  a  line  of  dots  with  another  set  of  small  letters, 
having  a  contrary  dash,  the  gesture  made  by  the  first 
hand  is  to  be  followed  and  supported  by  another  ges- 
ture made  by  the  other  hand,  which  is  to  take  place 
where  the  second  set  of  letters  is  marked.  This  is 
called  alternate  gesture,  and  noted  al. 

In  order  to  prevent  confusion,  the  postures  of  the 
head,  and  the  direction  of  the  eyes,  are  indicated  by 
capital  letters  near  the  beginning  of  the  sentence,  or  at 
some  distance  from  the  letters  relating  to  the  hands 
and  arms. 

The  letters  which  mark  the  positions  of  the  feet,  and 
the  steps,  are  placed  below  the  line,  and  under  the  word 
where  they  should  take  place. 

THE    MISER     AND     PLUTUS. 

(GAY.) 
R      Bvhfr  -  q  peq  n—pdq 

1  .  2.  The  wind  was  high  —  I  the  window  shakes  ;  | 


m, 


veq  c  —  vhx  c 

3.  With  sudden  start  the  miser  wakes  !  | 

sRlx 
F  pdc  ad  --  phq  — 

4.  Along  the  silent  room  he  stalks  ;  | 

aK2 
B        vhx  —  vhqe  Bvhftr 

5.  6.  Looks  back,  |  and  trembles  as  he  walks  I  | 

sRlx 


GESTURE.  139 

vhq— —  vhx 

7.  Each  lock,  and  ev'ry  bolt  he  tries,  I 

aLS. 
shq  o  — —  she  i 

8.  In  ev'ry  creek,  and  corner,  pries ;  | 


9.  Then  opes  his  chest  with  treasure  stor'd, 

D  Bseq 

10.  And  stands  in  rapture  o'er  his  hoard  :  I 

ja 

Bvhfe 

11.  But  now  with  sudden  qualms,  possest,  I 

rRl 


Idbr 


12.  He  wrings  his  hands  ;  he  beats  his  breast  —  | 

13.  By  conscience  stung  he  wildly  stares;  | 

Bshf  sh 

14.  And  thus  his  guilty  soul  declares:    | 


Bsdf  d- 


15.  Had  the  deep  earth  her  stores  confin'd,  I 

aR-2 
br—R 

16.  This  heart  had  known  sweet  peace  of  mind ;  | 


vhf—vhx     U  Bsefsp- 


17.  18.  But  virtue  's  sold  !  |  Good  gods  !  what  price  | 

aR2 
F—R 

9.  Can  recompense  the  pangs  of  vice  ?  | 

D  Bsdf  d  --  -  -  n 

20.  O  bane  of  good  !  seducing  cheat  !    | 

rRl 

Bvhf  -  vef  sJif  at  —  sdq 

21.22.  Can  man,  weak  man,  |  thy  power  defeat?  | 

seb  sw  —  sdq 

23.  Gold  banish'd  honour  from  the  mind,  I 

rLl 

br—R 

24.  And  only  left  the  name  behind;  | 


Sphc 


25.  Gold   sow'd  the  world  with  ev'ry  ill;  | 


140  ELOCUTION. 

ceb  sh  —  cdq 

26.  Gold  taught  the  murd'rer's  sword   to  kill :  I 

Llx 

shfsh  —  sdq 

27.  'Twas  gold  instructed  coward  hearts  | 

aR-2x 

Bvbfrj 

28.  In  treach'ry's  more  pernicious  arts.  | 

rRl 

seq  —  sdq 

29.  Who  can  recount  the  mischiefs  o'er?  | 

R2 

Bpdf     d 

30.  Virtue  resides  on  earth  no  more !  | 

****** 


REMARKS  ON  THE  NOTATION  OF  THE  MISER  AND  PLUTUS. 

For  the  convenience  of  reference,  the  piece  is  divided  into  sec- 
tions, by  vertical  bars,  and  the  number  of  each  section  is  printed  in 
the  margin. 

(1.)  The  direction  of  motion,  expressed  by  the  4th  small  letter, 
r,  means  that  from  the  position  in  which  both  hands  are  presented, 
vhf,  they  should  move  towards  the  right,  and  stop  at  the  position, 
oblique,  as  noted  by  q,  connected  by  a  dash  to  the  position  mentioned. 

(2.)  The  4th  small  letter,  n,  signifies  noting. 

(12.)  The  posture  of  the  hands  is,  at  first,  folded  horizontal  for- 
wards, as  expressed  in  the  notation,  Id  hf.  At  the  a,  connected 
by  a  dash,  which  signifies  ascending,  the  hands  are  raised  up,  and 
at  the  next  notation,  Id  br,  they  are  forcibly  withdrawn  back  on  the 
breast. 

(21.)  This  posture  begins  horizontal,  as  first  noted,  Bvhf,  and 
ends  elevated,  B  vef;  but  the  B  is  omitted  over  the  word,  weak, 
being  understood  by  the  connecting  dash. 

(25.)  The  3d  small  letter,  relating  to  the  transverse  direction  of 
the  arm,  is  often  placed  alone,  but  connected  by  a  dash  with  a  pre 
ceding  set  of  letters,  as  already  observer  (1.)  In  such  case  it  is  to 
be  understood  that  the  posture  of  the  hands  remains  as  before,  and 
that  the  transverse  direction  of  the  arm  only  is  changed.  Here 
each  arm  passes  through  the  whole  semicircle,  from  the  position 
across  to  extended. 

The  fourth,  and  the  fifth  small  letter,  which  relates  to  the  direc- 
tion and  manner  of  motion,  are  also  often  separated,  in  this  manner, 
from  the  position  to  which  they  belong,  in  order  that  the  place  of 
the  motion,  or  action,  may  be  the  more  distinctly  marked.  (See  9, 


GESTURE.  141 

15  and  20,  in  which  n  is  thus  separated,  to  point  out  the  particular 
syllable  on  which  the  action  of  noting  falls) 

The  action  of  the  hands  and  arms,  at  No.  15  and  20,  is  the  same, 
but  the  general  effect  is  different,  in  consequence  of  the  difference 
in  the  positions  of  the  feet.  In  the  preparation  for  these  gestures, 
the  palms  of  both  hands  are  raised  so  as  almost  to  touch  the  fore- 
head ;  then  they  descen^  gradually,  and  when  the  arms  are  a  little 
below  the  horizontal  elevation,  the  wrists  make  that  particular 
motion  called  noting,  on  the  respective  words,  stores  and  cheat. 

(26.)  Left  foot  first  position  extended.  To  make  this  position 
extended,  the  left  foot  is  advanced,  the  body  at  the  same  time  is 
thrown  back,  and  sinks  a  little,  bending  the  right  knee. 

(28.)  This  gesture,  Bvhf  rj,  both  vertical  horizontal  forwards 
rejecting,  is  thus  made :  both  hands  are  drawn  backwards,  nearly 
to  the  mouth,  in  the  vertical  position ;  the  eyes,  at  this  time,  are 
directed  forwards,  the  hands  are  then  pushed  forwards,  while  the 
face  is  averted,  and  the  feet  retire,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  of  disgust  or  abhorrence  to  be  expressed. 

AN   ELEGY    WRITTEN    IN    A   COUNTRY    CHURCH-YARD. 

(GRAY.) 
I- 

La      neq  —  vhz  a Bpef- 


The  curfew  tolls — the  knell  of  parting  day! 
am 

F  phf  — q x 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea ; 

rRl 


-phf 


The  ploughman   homeward  plods   his  weary  way, 

V  Bnef d BR 

And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness,   and   to  me. 


n. 

R        Bphc 


Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 


Bvef 


And  all   the   air   a   solemn   stillness   holds 


ice 


Save  where   the   beetle  wheels   his  droning  flight, 

vefrt  phfp  —  R 

And   drowsy   tinklings   lull   the   distant   folds: 


142  ELOCUTION. 

ill. 

—  ieqn 

Save   that  from  yonder  ivy-mantled  tower 

HI 

—  veq  U       —  seb 

The   moping  owl   does   to   the    moon  complain 

rLl 
—  shq 

Of  such   as,  wandering   near   her   secret   bower, 
Molest  her  ancient,   solitary  reign. 

IV. 

shfn shfn 

Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew  tree's  shade, 

Bbdf  a v  hf 

Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mouldering  heap, 


Bnefsp 


Each    in   his   narrow  cell   for  ever  laid, 

F  Bphf —  d BR 

The  rude   forefathers  of  the   hamlet   sleep. 

• 
v. 

shf—  veq  w  — 

The   breezy  call   of  incense-breathing  morn, 

rRl 


teg 


The  swallow,  twitt'ring  from  the  straw-built  shed, 

idq  —  veq  w  — 

The  cock's   shrill   clarion,   or  the  echoing  horn, 

a Bnef  sp  B  sdf  d 

No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed, 

am 

VI. 

shf- 

For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burr;, 

rRl 

vhf  — 

Or  busy   housewife   ply   her  evening  care, 

Bshfp 

Nor  children  run   to  lisp   their  sire's   return, 

aR2 
Bnef  a  D  F  B  shfn 

Or  climb  his   knees,  the  envied   kiss   to  share 

rRl 


GESTURE.  143 

VII. 


phc 


Oft   did  the   harvest   to   their   sickle  yield; 

tdfst  — 

Their  furrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke ; 

gee       sw phq  up 

How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  afield  I 

eeb  bn ckfst 

How  bow'd  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke . 
vni. 

irf ihf  n  - 

Let  not  ambition   mock   their   useful    toil, 

rLl 

pef pdfd- 

Their   homely  joys,   and   destiny  obscure: 


Nor  grandeur  hear,   with   a  disdainful   smile, 

rRl 
a  -  vef  -  d  -  R 

The   short,   and   simple   annals  of  the   poor. 

IX. 

vef  sp  —  ieffi  — 

The   boast  of  heraldry,   the   pomp  of  pow'r, 


And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 

B  vhq  sh 

Await,   alike,   the    inevitable    hour  — 

rRl 

a  -  -  vef  -  a  -  d  sdq  n  R 

The   paths   of  glory   lead  but   to   the  grave. 

•M 
X. 

Bphe  -  q  a  --  shfn  — 

Nor   you,   ye   proud,   impute   to    these   the  fault, 

rLl 


If  mem'ry  o'er   their   tomb   no    trophies    raise, 

£2 

vhfp  —  see q 

Where,  thro'  the  long-drawn  aisle,  and  fretted  vault, 

a B  nef a d BR 

The  pealing   anthem   swells  the  note  of  praise. 


144  ELOCUTION. 

XI. 

ihf — —  vhg  n 

Can   storied   urn,  or   animated    bust, 

rRL 


BL  tc 


Back   to  its   mansion  call   the  fleeting  breath  ? 


veq  -  d  sdf  —  R 


Can   honour's   voice  provoke  the   silent  dust, 

aP2 

Bshfsh  a  -  vef  ---  vdfp 

Or   flatt'ry  soothe  the   dull  cold  ear  of  death? 

XII 

idf  -  „ 
Perhaps   in  this   neglected   spot,   is  laid 

rRl 

br  —  R  veq  w  — 

Some   heart  once   pregnant  with   celestial   fire; 

B  nef  -  B  stfst 

Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  sway'd, 

pec  SID  --  veq  sw 

Or  wak'd   to  ecstasy   the   living  lyre. 

XIII. 

Skfd  -  :  --  q 

But   knowledge   to   their  eyes   her   ample   page, 

pftc  --  •  --  x 

Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll; 


Bvhfrt 


Chill   penury  repressed   their   noble   rage, 

BvJiqc  B  nhfp  B  br 

And   froze  the   genial   current  of  the   soul. 

XIV. 

ihf  — 

Full   many   a  gem   of  purest   ray   serene, 


Bpdfd. 


The  dark  unfathom'd  caves   of  ocean   bear; 

aR2 

shq p 

Full   many   a    flow'r   is   born   to  blush   unseen, 

phc q x 

And  waste   its   sweetness   on  the  desert  air. 


GESTURE.  145 

XV. 

vef-  br-R 

Some  village  Hampden  that,  with  dauntless  breast 

rLl 

ihf—  veq  v, 

The   little   tyrant   of  his  fields   withstood  ; 

a  -  B  nef  -  d  --  B  sdf 

Some   mute,   inglorious   Milton,   here  may   rest; 


Bvhfrt  -  p  Ji  Bvhc 


Some  Cromwell,  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood. 

r/H 

XVI. 

B  shfp q x 

The   applause   of  listening    senates    to  command, 

phfp a  a vef—  rj 

The  threats  of  pain   and  ruin   to  despise, 

Bphc q Bvhx  sp 

To  scatter   plenty  o'er    a  smiling  land, 

B  she q x 

And  read   their  history   in   a   nation's   eyes, 

XVII. 

phfst  —  R  phc q 

Their   lot  forbade  —  nor  circumscrib'd   alone 


Bvhfrt 


Their  growing  virtues  ;  but,  their  crimes  confin'd, 

B  bdf  ad vhf eb 

Forbade   to  wade  through   slaughter  to  a  throne, 

Bvhfp- a d BR 

And   shut   the  gates  of  mercy   on  mankind. 

********* 

REMARKS  ON  THE  NOTATION  OF  GRAY'S  ELEGY. 

(STANZA  I.)  First  Line.  Ls,  listening.  (See  complex  signifi- 
cant gestures.)  The  small  a,  over  knell,  is  connected  with  the  set 
of  letters,  B  pef,  over  parting ;  and  the  small  d,  over  day,  is  also 
connected  with  the  same  set.  Each  is  considered  a  fourth  small 
letter,  separated  from  its  set ;  a  denotes  the  preparation,  and  d,  the 
termination  of  the  motion  of  the  gesture.  Second  line.  The  set 
of  letters,  phd,  relates  to  the  right  hand,  which  finishes  its  action 
at  x,  and  falls  slowly  to  rest.  Third  line.  Here  the  left  hand 
13  K 


146  ELOCUTION. 

takes  up  the  principal  gesture.  This  is  called  alternate  gesture. 
Both  hands  unite  their  action  on  weary.  Fourth  Line.  V,  the 
eyes  bent  on  vacancy. 

(STANZA  II.)  The  several  gestures  which  are  connected  toge- 
ther by  long  dashes,  are  to  be  considered  as  the  flowing  variation  of 
continued  motion,  till  either  one,  or  both  hands  fall  to  rest.  Ges- 
tures, thus  connected,  may  be  called  continuous ;  they  are  gene- 
rally of  that  kind  which  are  styled  discriminating  gestures.  First 
line.  The  posture,  Bphc,  on  fades,  is  the  preparation  for  sweep- 
ing round  the  horizon.  Whilst  the  hands  are  proceeding  to  the 
position,  Bphc,  the  head  and  eyes  should  turn  towards  either  ex- 
treme ;  and  whilst  the  arms  are  moving  from  this  to  the  different 
positions,  q  and  x,  the  head  and  eyes  should  move  to  the  other  ex- 
treme. In  cases  where  the  right  hand  performs  the  principal  ac- 
tion, the  head  should  follow  its  motion ;  in  other  words,  it  should 
turn  from  left  to  right,  and  vice  versa.  Third  line.  The  left  hand 
drops  here,  and  the  index-finger  of  the  right  hand  is  prepared  to 
point  across.  The  eye  should  follow  the  object  at  which  the  finger 
seems  to  point,  as  at  a  flying  beetle. 

(STANZA  III.)  In  order  to  vary  the  gestures,  and  the  better  to 
distribute  the  objects  in  the  picture,  the  tower  is  supposed  to  be 
placed  on  the  left  side,  and  the  left  hand  assumes  the  principal  ges- 
ture ;  this  is  indicated,  in  the  notation,  by  the  short  dash  which 
precedes  the  set  of  letters.  Fourth  line.  "  Ancient,  solitary." 
Nouns,  or,  substantives,  may  be  considered  as  the  outlines,  or  im- 
ages of  things ;  adjectives,  as  the  colouring,  or  circumstances  added 
to  those  images,  or  limitations  deducting  something  from  them.  In 
poetical  language  they  are  called  epithets.  Gray  has  indulged  in 
the  use  of  them,  perhaps  to  a  fault.  But  however  that  may  be, 
whenever  they  occur,  they  almost  constantly  rob  the  principal  image, 
or  substantive,  of  its  emphatic  distinction,  and  claim  it  for  themselves ; 
perhaps,  because  the  circumstances  alone  give  individuality  to  the 
image,  which,  in  itself,  is  a  general  term.  For  these  reasons,  the 
action,  or  gesture,  falls  rather  on  the  epithet ;  and,  if  two,  or  more 
epithets  are  added  to  the  same  image,  each  should  be  distinctly 
marked,  both  by  emphasis  and  action :  if  so  pronounced,  they  serve 
to  illustrate  the  idea ;  but  if  they  are  hurried  over,  they  cause  only 
confusion.  Therefore,  the  words  ancient  solitary  reign,  require 
two  gestures,  one  on  each  epithet.  But,  to  avoid  affectation,  the 
transition  should  be  the  easiest  possible ;  and  this  will  be  when  the 
gesture  on  the  preceding  word  is  made  the  preparation  for  that  on 
the  subsequent.  When  two  epithets  are  applied  to  a  name,  the 
latter  should  be  the  stronger ;  and  in  this  view,  also,  it  is  proper  to 
reserve  the  emphatic  gesture  for  it,  as  the  principal. 

(STANZA  IV.)  First  line.  On  elms,  the  right  hand  again  re- 
sumes the  principal  gesture.  It  is  here  alternate,  or  auxiliary,  as 
appears  from  the  dotted  line  of  connexion.  Second  line.  On  heaves 


GESTURE.  147 

the  backs  of  the  hands  are  presented  forwards,  the  hands  hanging 
down,  and  in  the  action  they  ascend  gradually  towards  vertical  eleva- 
ted^ on  the  word  mouldering.  Third  line.  "  Each  in  his  narrow  cell 
for  ever  laid ;"  the  arms  gradually  ascend  to  the  highest  point,  on  the 
word  ever,  and  then,  in  the  same  manner,  descend,  to  rest  on  the 
word  sleep,  making,  in  their  progress,  a  momentary  arrest  on  the 
word  forefathers.  It  seems  to  be  an  incongruity  to  raise  the  arms, 
in  speaking  of  the  grave,  which  is  below ;  but  this  is  removed  by 
the  downward  inclination  of  the  head,  and  look  of  the  eyes,  as  noted  ; 
and  it  is  not  uncommon  to  elevate  the  arms  in  looking  into  any 
thing  dreadful  below.  This  is  also  the  preparation  for  the  following 
gesture,  which  requires  the  arms  to  fall  to  rest.  From  the  third 
line  to  the  end  of  the  stanza  the  gestures  are  continuous. 

(STANZA  V.)  First  line.  On  breathing  the  graceful  wave  is 
marked.  The  wave  may  be  considered  of  three  kinds,  the  graceful, 
the  wave  of  triumph  (which,  in  a  less  degree,  is  also  the  wave  of 
joy],  and  the  wave  of  scorn,  or  contempt.  The  subject  will  always 
sufficiently  determine  the  character  to  be  adopted,  though  the  no- 
tation is  the  same  for  all.  Second  line.  On  swallow,  the  index  is 
raised,  to  point  out  the  object ;  on  twittering  it  ascends  to  the  high- 
est point  in  the  range  of  gesture,  or  is  retracted,  so  as  almost  to 
touch  the  head,  and  then  on  the  word  straw-built  it  makes  the  ac- 
tion of  noting.  Third  line.  The  joyful  wave,  approaching  to  tri- 
umph, should  be  made  on  echoing ;  the  voice  should  here  mark  the 
crescendo,  which  will  be  contrasted  with  the  gravity  of  the  follow- 
ing line.  Fourth  line.  In  order  to  perform  the  action  of  springing, 
indicated  by  sp,  the  arms  begin  to  ascend  from  more,  and  having 
arrived  at  the  word  rouse,  the  wrists  make  on  it  the  stroke  of  the 
gesture  by  springing  suddenly  into  the  elevated  position. 

(STANZA  VI.)  Fourth  line.  The  gesture  on  climb  is  a  suspend- 
ing gesture,  preparatory  to  that  on  kiss.  The  eyes  look  downwards 
on  climb,  and  forwards  on  kiss.  The  ends  of  the  fingers  approach 
the  mouth  a  little  on  kiss,  after  which  the  hands  are  advanced  su- 
pine noting. 

(STANZA  VII.)  Second  line.  The  preparation  for  the  gesture 
on  stubborn  is  neq  rt,  and  would  fall  on  oft,  but  is  here  omitted  as 
taking  place,  of  course,  when  the  gesture  marked  on  stubborn  is 
executed.  It  will  be  observed  that  several  emphatic  gestures  im- 
ply a  proper  suspending,  or  preparatory  gesture,  and  reciprocally, 
the  latter  the  former.  Thus,  when  a  stroke  is  required  to  be  made, 
the  arm  must,  of  course,  be  raised ;  therefore,  shf  st  must  necessa- 
rily imply  nefbn,  inwards  elevated  forwards  bending ;  veq  w  im- 
plies, bhfa,  backwards  horizontal  forwards  ascending ;  and  vhx  rj, 
implies,  vhx  rt,  vertical  horizontal  extended  retracting.  In  the 
notation,  the  preparatory  gestures  are  often  omitted,  when  they  are 
not  required  to  make  a  preceding  less  emphatic  word ;  in  which 
case  they  are  prepared  with  less  decision,  and  their  stroke  is  soft- 


148  ELOCUTION. 

ened.  When  the  suspending,  or  preparatory  gesture  is  used  as  the 
principal,  as  in  terror,  where  the  arms  are  retracted  violently,  and 
in  surprise,  where  they  are  elevated  forcibly,  the  subsequent  ges- 
ture is  also  softened ;  and  the  emphasis  of  its  stroke  is  remitted. 
Fourth  line.  Should  woods  not  be  pronounced  with  a  strong  em- 
phasis, the  notation  over  this  word  might  be  omitted. 

(STANZA  VIII.)  The  first  gesture  in  each  of  the  first  three 
lines  of  this  stanza,  is  a  preparatory  gesture,  of  the  decisive  kind, 
and  the  last,  in  each,  emphatic.  As  all  the  words  which  are  noted 
are  important,  each  requires  the  enforcement  of  gesture;  and  the 
connexion  of  suspending,  or  preparatory  and  emphatic  gestures, 
renders  the  transitions  easy  and  unaffected.  Second  line.  The 
noun,  destiny,  being  here  placed  before  its  adjective,  or  epithet, 
may  obtain  both  the  emphasis  and  action ;  they  might,  also,  be  re- 
served for  the  epithet  obscure.  Fourth  line.  "  Short  and  simple  ;" 
the  first  epithet  is  distinguished  by  a  slight  discriminating  gesture, 
produced  by  a  small  change  in  the  elevation  of  the  arm  and  hand, 
marked  a.  This  is  made  the  commencement  of  the  gesture  re/", 
which  is  completed  by  a  suspending  gesture  on  simple,  and  which 
descends  to  rest  on  the  word  poor,  with  an  emphatic  and  terminat- 
ing gesture. 

(STANZA  IX.)  First  line.  The  flourish  is  marked  on  power. 
The  flourish,  as  expressed  in  Fig.  88,  is  performed  principally  by 
the  wrist.  In  order  to  perform  this  action,  the  hand,  with  the  in- 
dex-finger, is  dropped  down  a  little  above  the  head,  nearly  at  right 
angles  with  the  fore-arm,  and  is  then  thrown  forcibly  upwards,  and 
sweeps  round  as  marked  by  the  line  of  dots  in  the  figure.  To  ad- 
vance boldly,  indicates  confidence,  pride,  &c. ;  to  advance  slowly, 
implies  solemnity,  grief,  resignation,  &.c.  The  notation  is  the  same, 
in  each  case,  as  the  sentiments  sufficiently  show  in  what  manner 
the  speaker  should  advance.  Of  the  former  (bold  advance),  an  in- 
stance is  observed  on  the  word  power,  in  this  line;  of  the  latter 
(slow  advance),  an  instance  is  seen  on  the  word  grave,  in  the  last 
line.  Third  line.  The  shake,  sh,  is  marked  on  inevitable.  It 
should  not  comprise  many  tremulous  motions,  lest  it  appear  ridicu- 
lous ;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  hand  move  twice  suddenly  backwards 
and  forwards.  Fourth  line.  The  gestures  in  this  line  are  continu- 
ous. The  first,  on  paths,  is  a  discriminating  gesture,  leading  to 
the  suspending  gesture,  on  glory.  The  gesture  on  lead,  is  the  pre- 
paration for  that  which  descends  to  the  word  grave,  on  which  falls 
the  emphatic  and  terminating  gesture.  The  advance,  noted  in  this 
line,  aR2,  for  the  step,  combines  with  the  descending  arms,  and  aids 
in  looking  down  with  resignation.  But  it  might  be  rRl,  or  rZd, 
which  would  express  terror,  or  alarm.  I  prefer  aR2. 

(STANZA  XL)  Second  line.  From  back,  both  hands  (the  palms 
inwards),  move  inwards,  so  that  at  mansion  they  nearly  touch  the 


GESTURE.  149 

lips,  as  noted ;  they  then  move  outwards  to  the  position  oblique,  on 
the  wordjleeting. 

(STANZA  Xll.)  Third  line.  There  is  a  suspending  gesture  on 
hands,  which  is  the  preparation  for  the  subsequent  gesture.  It 
might  have  been  omitted,  as  it  is  obviously  implied,  were  it  not 
thought  proper  to  mark  the  word  hands  with  some  force ;  and,  in 
this  way,  it  obtains  the  distinction  of  gesture  without  extravagance 
or  unnecessary  waste  of  gesture.  Were  this  preparatory  gesture 
not  marked,  the  hands  would  ascend,  by  a  uniform  motion,  to  rod, 
then  make  the  stroke  on  empire,  which  would  be  feeble,  and,  if 
noted  at  large,  would  be  thus : 


a Bshfst 


Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  sway'd. 

Fourth  line.  The  double  sweep  is  here  performed  —  first  inwards, 
on  ecstasy,  and  then  outwards,  on  lyre. 

(STANZA  XIII.)  The  gesture  on  penury  is  a  suspending  one ; 
its  fourth  and  its  fifth  letter,  rp,  which  express  the  manner  of  mo- 
tion, being  separated,  in  order  to  place  them  over  their  proper  syl- 
lable. The  notation,  at  large,  would  be  as  follows : 

Bvhfrt       *  Bvhfrp 

Chill  penury  repressed,  &c. 

The  first  retracting,  the  last  repressing  ;  this,  however,  is  under- 
stood from  the  nature  of  the  emphatic  gesture.  Fourth  line.  The 
fourth  small  letter,  c,  over  froze,  signifies  contracted.  The  gesture 
on  current  serves  as  a  preparation  for  placing  the  hands  on  the 
breast  This  gesture,  Bnhfp,  begins  on  genial,  and  the  arms  are 
stretched  out,  with  some  force,  on  current. 

(STANZA  XIV.)  Third  line.  On  the  wordjlower,  shfrt  might 
be  placed,  as  the  preparation  for  the  gesture  on  blush;  but  as  the 
word  does  not  require  a  strong  emphasis,  the  notation  is  omitted ; 
however,  the  gesture  is  implied.  (See  remarks  on  Stanza  VII.) 

(STANZA  XV.)  Fourth  line.  When  from  the  transverse  posi- 
tion, c,  the  arms  move  directly  to  x,  without  noting  the  interme- 
diate position,  q,  as  here,  on  country's  blood,  the  motion  is  under- 
stood to  be  rapid,  and  decisive,  expressing  vehemence  or  horror. 

(STANZA  XVI.)  Second  line.  The  gestures  necessary  to  be 
marked,  on  this  line,  are  four,  of  which  the  second,  on  pain,  and 
the  third,  on  ruin,  are  made  by  the  momentary  arrest  of  the  hand, 
in  its  ascent  to  vef,  on  the  first  syllable  of  despise  ,•  rj,  rejecting,  on 
the  last  syllable,  finishes  the  whole  with  the  emphatic  stroke. 
Thus  sufficient  discrimination  is  made,  without  falling  into  quaint- 
ness  of  gesture,  or  affectation.  These  small  discriminating  ges- 
tures, produced  by  a  slight  arrest  of  motion,  and  often  by  merely 
changing  the  posture  of  the  hand,  are  more  frequent,  and  more  im 
portant  to  the  orator,  than  the  more  showy  gestures,  and  should  be 
particularly  attended  to. 
13* 


150  ELOCUTION. 

(STANZA  XVII.)  The  last  two  lines  have  each  a  series  of  con- 
tinuous gestures. 

From  the  preceding  analysis  and  notation,  it  will  be  observed  that 
the  discriminating  gestures  are  principally  requisite  for  the  recit- 
ing of  this  poem.  The  suspending  and  the  emphatic  are  frequent ; 
but  the  last  seldom  require  to  be  strongly  marked,  as  the  general 
character  of  the  sentiments  is  calm  and  tender.  Of  significant 
gestures  there  are  very  few.  The  first,  marked  Ls,  listening,  over 
curfew,  is  of  this  class,  and  perhaps  a  few  others  may  also  be 
reckoned  to  belong  to  it,  as  when  the  hand  is  laid  on  the  breast ;  but 
there  are  not  many  more. 

As  these  gestures  may  be  varied,  it  may  be  said,  infinitely,  so 
there  can  be  no  fixed  standard,  as  to  the  manner  of  delivering  this, 
or  any  other  poem,  or  oration,  which  should  be  considered  exclusively 
appropriate.  The  sentiments  require,  indeed,  to  be  delivered  with 
suitable  tones  of  voice,  and  expression  of  countenance ;  but  great 
variety  of  gesture  may  be  consistent  with  propriety,  provided  gene- 
ral rules  are  not  violated  :  as,  that  decorum  and  simplicity  be  ob- 
served ;  that  the  transitions,  connexions,  the  time  of  the  gesture, 
and  precision  in  the  stroke,  be  attended  to,  and  other  obvious  precau- 
tions, of  general  import,  already  sufficiently  detailed.  The  notation 
will  accommodate  itself  to  every  variety  in  the  speaker's  manner; 
and  this  must  prove  a  recommendation  to  its  use. 

THE   SPEECH   OP    BRUTUS   ON    THE    DEATH   OF    C^SAR. 

(SHAKSPEARE.) 

B  zhfp q vex  sp  B  nef 


Romans,   countrymen,   and    lovers  !    hear    me    for 

al&  rRl 

B  shf  st  P«/  —  phz  phf  st  —  R 

my    cause  ;    and    be     silent    that    you     may    hear. 

Bshfp  br — R  br  pr — veq  sp 

Believe  me  for  mine  honour;  and  have  respect  unto 

aR2 

Bshfn  DBpef 

mine   honour  that   you   may   believe.      Censure  me 

B  tihx  Bvefsp 

in  your  wisdom;   and  awake   your   senses   that  you 

rRl 

B  shf  n  B  she x — — • 

may   the    better    judge.      If  there  be   any   in    this 

0JB 

sdfd  vefsp  — 


assembly,   any   dear    friend   of   Cresar's,    to   him    I 


GESTURE.  151 

br-R 

say   that   Brutus'   love   to   Caesar,   was  no  less  than 

rRl 

ahfst  ief n  —  veq  — 

his.     If,  then,  that   friend   demand  why  Brutus  rose 

BaJtfp q 

against  Ca3sar,  this  is  my  answer:  not  that  I  loved 

nef —        shfst —  B  veq  w 

Caesar   less,   but    that   I   loved    Rome    more.      Had 

shfp  —  peq^  sp  —  phfst  — 

you   rather  Caesar   were   living,  and  die   all   slaves, 

rLl 

B  shfst  B  nhx 

than   that  Caesar  were  dead,   and   live  all  freemen? 

aR2 

sef —  E  —  R  veq  iD- 

As  Caesar  loved  me,  I  weep  for  him ;  as  he  was  for- 

rLl 

br  —  veq  —  vhq  B  sdf  d 

tunate,  I   rejoice  at   it ;  as  he  was  valiant,  I  honour 

cef—  chfst—    ^  D 

him ;  but,  as   he  was  ambitious,  I  slew  him.     There  <• 

L2  am 

B  nef  shf  d     Ubr  —  R  veq  w  —      D  Bpef 

are   tears   for   his   love,  joy  for   his   fortune,  honour 

rRl 

Bveqsp  —  ceb  —  chfsk—    BR         shf 

for  his  valour,  and   death  for  his   ambition.     Who's 

rLl 

p  ohc *  rj  pef— 

here   so  base   that   would  be  a   bondman  ?     If  any, 

aR2 

pdfst—  ihfre  R  — 

speak ;  for   him   have   I   offended.      Who's   here   so 

rRl 

pkc z  sfif n 

rude  that  would  not   be  a  Roman?     If  any,  speak; 

vef  sp  —  B  vhfp 

for  him  have  I  offended.    Who  's  here  so  vile  that 

rLl 

Bveqw  B  shfn  A 

will    not    love    his    country  ?      If  any,   speak ;    for 


152  ELOCUTION. 

BvJifsh  BR  veq  v>  — 

him  have   I  offended.     I  pause  for  a  reply.     None' 

she  sw 

Then  none  have  I  offended.     I  have  done   no  more 

aR-2 
shfn—  nef—  br  —  R 

to  Csesar,   than    you    should   do    to    Brutus.      The 

rLl 


ieb  n  — 


question  of   his   death    is    enrolled   in  the   Capitol; 


his   glory  not  extenuated  wherein   he  was   worthy ; 


ihf- 


nor    his    offences    enforced,    for   which    he    suffered 

phfst  —  B  —ihb she  —  Fshc^shb 

death.      Here   comes   his   body,   mourned   by   Mark 

rRl 

n  shf—R 

Antony,  who,  though  he  had   no   hand  in  his  death, 

nef  —  shf  n  — 

shall  receive   the   benefit  of  his  dying, —  a   place  in 

Bshc q—      i 

the    commonwealth ;   as    which    of   you    shall   not  ? 

Bnef B  R  cef— 

With    this,    I    depart :    that,   as    I    slew    my    best 

rRl  rLl 

Bshfn  chfsh  — 

lover  for  the  good  of  Rome,  I  have  the  same  dagger 

br  st  —  R  a B  pef 

for   myself,  when    it    shall    please    my  country   to 

—  d B  R  st 

need  my   death. 

rRl 

REMARKS  ON  THE  NOTATION  OF  THE  SPEECH  OF  BRUTUS. 

I  have  introduced  this  speech,  and  noted  it,  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  that  the  gestures  necessary  for  delivering  it  in  the  true 
spirit,  are  principally  the  suspending  and  the  emphatic.  These  are 
suited  to  the  vehemence  of  the  speaker's  manner,  which  seeks  no 
ornament,  but  hastens  to  produce  the  main  impression  on  his  hearers, 
by  the  most  direct  method.  An  inspection  of  the  notation  will  make 
this  evident ;  for,  even  though  the  reader  may  wish  tr  alter  many 


GESTURE.  153 

particular  gestures  which  are  here  noted,  he  must  change  them  for 
others  of  the  same  nature,  if  he  would  preserve  the  character  of  the 
speech.  The  suspending  and  the  emphatic  gestures  must  still 
abound,  and  he  will  find  little  opportunity  for  introducing  the  other 
descriptions,  which  are,  in  general,  too  tame  for  the  abrupt  and  ve- 
hement style  of  this  speech. 

"  Be  silent  that  you  may  hear"  On  these  words  I  have  marked 
the  gesture  for  the  left  hand,  as  well  as  that  for  the  right,  and  also 
on  the  words,  "  have  respect  unto  mine  honour."  This  last  is  an 
auxiliary  gesture,  but  of  the  vehement  kind.  The  exordium  of  this 
singular  oration  ends  at  «*  better  judge ;"  after  which,  the  arms 
should  fall  to  rest,  and  there  should  be  a  considerable  pause.  An- 
other division,  which  may  be  called  the  proposition,  takes  place  at 
"live  all  freemen  ,-"  another,  the  narration,  at  "death  for  his  am- 
bition ,-"  and  that  which  may  be  called  the  pathetic,  or  appeal  to 
the  passions,  finishes  at  "I  pause  for  a  reply."  The  argument,  or 
reasoning,  ends  at  "suffered  death;"  and  the  peroration  follows. 

"  /  weep  for  him."  This  is  noted  E  —  R,  the  right  hand  on  the 
eyes,  the  left  at  rest. 

"  Him  have  I  offended  "  noted  on  "him"  ihfrc,  recoiling.  In 
this  action  the  finger  is  pointed  suddenly,  and  scornfully ;  then  im- 
mediately withdrawn. 

Frequent  changes  in  the  positions  of  the  feet  indicate  anxiety  ; 
they  are,  therefore,  noted,  in  this  speech. 

"His  body,  mourned;"  auxiliary  gesture.  When  the  right 
hand  is  brought  up  on  "mourned,"  both  hands  become  supine;  and, 
on  the  next  words,  "  by  Mark  Antony"  they  make  the  action  of 
noting.  At  " Here  comes"  noted  JB,  the  speaker  looks  back ;  at 
" Mark  Antony"  noted  F,  he  looks  forward  to  those  whom  he  ad- 
dresses. It  would  be  tedious  to  point  out  all  the  suspending  ges- 
tures, succeeded  immediately  by  the  emphatic,  for  they  abound. 
In  all  the  antitheses,  which  are  numerous,  the  suspending  will  be 
found  over  the  first  member,  and  the  emphatic  over  the  last. 


EXTRACT    FROM    YOUNG'S   NIGHT   THOUGHTS. 

U  vefn         F  Bnef 

The  bell  strikes   one.     We   take   no  note  of  time 

aK2,  rR\ 

Bshfst  U  ief- 

But   from  its   loss  :   to   give  it   then   a  tongue 

shfn—  r         B  phq 

Is   wise  in   man.     As   if  an   angel   spoke, 

U      br  —  R  ihf  — 

I   feel   the   solemn   sound.      If  heard    aright 


154  ELOCUTION. 


ief idq R  at 


It   is   the   knell  of  my   departed   hours. 

RBvhc q  rt Bvhfp 

Where  are  they  ?     With  the  years  beyond  the  flood 

V  ieq  —  phfst  — 

It   is   the  signal   that   demands   despatch: 

Bphfx  Bvhq a  — 

How  much   is   to   be  done !     My  hopes,  and  fears 


sp- 


Start   up   alarmed,   and  o'er  life's   narrow  verge 


B  phfst  Bnefsp 


Look   down  —  on  what?      A   fathomless   abyss, 

rRl 

B  vefp a B  R  at 

A   dread    eternity !    how    surely    mine 

vef—  br.. 

And    can    eternity    belong    to    me, 

—  vef  Bnef BR 

Poor   pensioner  on   the   bounties   of  an   hour? 

U  nefc—     F  shfst—      A         ohc  —  vhfc  F     B  veq  w 

How   poor,  how   rich,   how   abject,  how   august, 

B  vhc x 

How    complicate,    how    wonderful    is    man ! 

U  a Bvefsp d  B  R 

How  passing  wonder   he  who  made   him   such! 

B  tc  br B  nhxsp 

Who  center'd  in  our  make  such  strange  extremes ! 

B  vhc q 

From   different   natures,   marvellously   mix'd, 


B  nef  rt pefp  • 


Connexion    exquisite    of   distant    worlds ! 

shfp a nefsp 

Distinguish'd    link    in    being's    endless    chain ! 

idf  n iZ  — 

Midway    from    nothing    to    the    Deity! 

U  shf—^  vhf vef 

A    beam  etherial,    sullied,    and    absorpt ! 

d phfst a vefsp  —  vkf 

Though  sullied,   and  dishonour'd,   still   divine! 


GESTURE.  155 

vtfc—  U  veqw  — 

Dim    miniature    of   greatness    absolute ! 

Bnef d- Bsdfn 

An    heir    of   glory !    a    frail    child    of   dust ! 

FBphf  U    Bveqsp  D    idf  —     Uveqw  — 

Helpless    immortal !    insect    infinite ! 

idfn—         U     refsp  Bshfsfi 

A    worm!    a    God!     I    tremble    at    myself, 

r  Bbr  vef—br 

And   in   myself  am   lost.     At   home,   a   stranger, 

UFst  —  R r  vefsp  — —  vfixsp 

Thought  wanders   up   and  down,  surprised,  aghast, 

V  BvJifsh  Bvec x 

And   wond'ring   at  her  own.     How   reason   reels ! 

vefe  —  phfn  —  br  —  R 

O    what    a    miracle    to    man    is    man, 

Bvefv> BR  vefsp—  vhfsh-- 

Triumphantly   distressed !    what  joy !   what  dread ! 

Bshfp  •      Bvhfrt 

Alternately  transported,    and    alarm'd! 

rRl 

B   br  Bvhc z 

What  can   preserve   my  life?    or   what   destroy? 

a nefsp  —  d pdfn 

An  angel's   arm  can't   snatch  me  from  the  grave , 

Bveqw Bnef Bscffst 

Legions   of   angels    can't    confine    me    there. 

REMARKS  ON  THE  EXTRACT  FROM  YOUNG'S  NIGHT-THOUGHTS. 

The  peculiarities  of  Young's  style,  especially  in  his  Night- 
Thoughts,  render  his  poetry  particularly  difficult  for  recitation. 
His  use  of  epithets  is  faulty  to  excess.  He  heaps  them  profusely, 
and  in  every  manner,  on  the  principal  idea.  Man  is  here  his  sub- 
ject, which  he  colours  with  every  variety  of  tint,  exhibits  in  every 
light,  and  touches  and  re-touches  almost  to  disgust.  And  yet  he 
has  here  produced  many  sublime  images ;  and  his  very  faults,  his 
labour,  his  antitheses  and  his  catachreses,*  are  the  source  of  his 
beauties.  This  passage  is  particularly  difficult  to  recite.  The  dif- 

*  Catackresis,  a  figure  of  speech  by  which  one  word  is  abusively 
put  for  another. 


156  ELOCUTION. 

ficulty  arises  chiefly  from  the  multiplicity  of  the  images,  and  the 
hrevity  of  the  expression  ;  consequently,  if  the  speaker  is  not  care- 
ful to  pronounce  every  line  with  due  deliberation,  his  gesture  makes 
confusion  only,  and  gives  an  air  of  mummery  to  his  recitation. 
This  condensation  of  images  occurs  in  almost  every  line;  but  the 
twenty-sixth  line,  which  consists  of  only  four  words,  is  remarkable. 
"  Helpless  immortal !  insect  infinite  !" 

To  give  force  and  variety,  and,  at  the  same  time,  simplicity  and 
gracefulness  to  gestures  so  heaped  on  each  other,  is  attended  with 
no  inconsiderable  difficulty.  But  even  should  the  speaker's  manner, 
in  the  recitation  of  these  lines,  prove  unexceptionable  in  this  re- 
spect, the  difficulty  is  but  half  conquered.  They  do  not,  indeed, 
require  any  considerable  variety  of  voice ;  but  the  eye  and  the  coun- 
tenance of  the  speaker  must  be  full  of  expression  and  intelligence: 
he  must  appear  to  be  rapt  in  meditation,  which  rises  into  sublimity 
as  it  proceeds,  and  inflames,  as  it  catches  the  rapid  succession  of 
thought.  On  these  accounts,  this  passage  is  seldom  recited  suc- 
cessfully. 

After  what  has  been  said  in  the  analysis  of  the  other  pieces,  a 
few  observations  will  suffice  for  this. 

Line  4,  "  aright,"  continuous  gesture  to  the  end  of  the  5th  line, 
where  the  hand  falls  to  rest  with  some  degree  of  force,  noted  R  st, 
rest,  striking.  The  hand,  generally,  in  falling  to  rest,  drops  quietly 
and  imperceptibly  by  its  own  gravity,  and  it  is  then  noted  with  a 
simple  R ;  but  sometimes  the  hand  is  struck  down  forcibly,  and  then 
it  is  noted,  as  above,  R  st. 

Line  8.  "  How  much ;"  the  x,  in  the  fourth  place,  means  that 
the  arms  are  to  be  extended  forwards  eagerly. 

Line  14,  15,  16,  six  epithets,  antithesis,  and  a  climax:  the  voice 
and  gesture  must  increase  in  energy,  and  on  "  he,"  in  the  16th  line, 
complete  the  climax.  The  first,  in  each  pair  of  gestures,  is  pre- 
paratory to  the  subsequent,  in  the  antithesis. 

Line  23  to  25.  Antitheses  and  catachreses  heaped  on  each 
other,  each  requiring  a  separate  gesture,  strongly  contrasted  with 
that  to  which  it  is  opposed. 

Line  29.     F  st,  the  hand  striking  the  forehead. 


GENERAL    REMARKS. 

In  order  to  render  every  circumstance  perfectly  intelligible,  I  have 
marked  with  the  notation  letters  the  gestures  in  the  preceding  ex- 
amples more  minutely  than  is  necessary  for  general  use.  For  gene- 
ral use,  it  is  sufficient  to  note  the  most  important  circumstances, 
leaving  the  filling  up  to  the  judgment  of  the  speaker. 


GESTURE.  157 

In  the  recitation  of  descriptions  of  any  kind,  the  speaker  must,  in 
imagination,  have  the  picture  before  his  eyes,  and  each  object  must, 
be  disposed  in  the  same  order  as  if  actually  painted.  If  this  imagi- 
nary picture  be  faulty  in  the  composition,  confused,  or  ill-grouped, 
the  gesture  will  perplex,  rather  than  enlighten ;  but,  if  well  con- 
ceived, and  well  disposed  in  its  parts,  the  speaker  will  seem  to  give 
it  the  interest  of  life  by  his  skilful  gesture  and  recitation  ;  and  the 
auditor  will  almost  imagine  that  he  actually  contemplates  all  that 
the  speaker  describes. 

Impassioned  compositions,  delivered  with  proper  feeling  and  ex- 
pression, open,  in  like  manner,  to  the  view  of  the  hearer,  the  inter- 
nal operations  of  the  speaker's  mind,  —  a  contemplation  still  more 
interesting  than  any  scenes  of  external  nature  which  can  be  pre- 
sented in  description. 

As,  in  writing,  even  an  appropriate  term  must  not  be  used  too 
frequently,  so  in  this  art,  the  same  gesture,  however  expressive, 
must  not  be  too  often  repeated.  Variety  is  graceful,  and  requires 
that  similar  gestures,  as  well  as  similar  words,  should  be  separated 
by  those  which  are  diverse. 

In  oratorical  action,  it  is  a  general  rule  that  each  new  idea  requires 
a  new  gesture.  But  important  ideas,  only,  require  distinguished 
gesture.  For  these  last,  therefore,  should  be  reserved  the  species  of 
gestures  named  emphatic;  for  the  former  (which  are  the  most  nu- 
merous), the  discriminating  will  be  sufficient.  As  to  frequency,  the 
propriety  of  gesture  will  be  found  to  depend  on  the  deliberation  and 
expression  of  the  speaker.  If  the  feelings  are  not  alive,  and  if  the 
lines  are  not  pronounced  with  due  deliberation,  the  gestures  will 
appear  to  be  too  numerous.  In  the  preceding  examples  they  may 
seem  to  have  this  fault,  from  the  circumstance  that  it  is  my  object 
to  exhibit  at  large  the  greater  part  of  their  minute  connexions  and 
transitions.  A  little  attention,  however,  will  show,  that  much, 
still,  has  been  left  to  be  supplied  by  the  judgment  of  the  reader. 

The  notation,  and  the  analytical  observations  on  the  foregoing 
pieces,  will,  it  is  conceived,  afford  sufficient  information  to  such  as 
may  desire  to  assist  their  rhetorical  studies  by  this  system.  I  would 
not  recommend  that  the  young  speaker,  in  using  this  notation,  should 
mark  every  possible  passage  in  his  discourse,  in  the  manner  of  these 
examples;  for  such  minuteness  would  lead  to  embarrassment,  un- 
less preceded  by  much  labour.  The  utmost  advisable  notation 
should  not  exceed  a  few  marks  on  particular  passages,  and  those 
separated  from  each  other ;  the  filling  up  of  which  should  be  trusted 
to  the  feelings  of  the  moment.  But  the  best  method,  in  all  re- 
spects, for  acquiring  a  finished  rhetorical  delivery,  is  the  private 
practice  of  declamation,  which  is  supported  on  the  authority  of  the 
great  masters  and  models  of  oratory,  Demosthenes  and  Cicero.  The 
aspiring  rhetorical  student  should  select  one  or  more  celebrated 
orations,  couched  in  the  style  that  he  wishes  to  adopt ;  these  he 
14 


158  ELOCUTION. 

should  carefully  subject  to  all  the  rules  of  notation ;  he  should  study 
them,  and  commit  them  to  memory ;  he  will  exercise  on  them  all 
the  powers  of  his  voice,  his  countenance  and  gesture  ;  and,  like  De- 
mosthenes, consult  his  mirror,  and  obtain  the  opinion  of  a  judicious 
friend  on  his  performances.  The  knowledge  and  facility,  which, 
by  repeated  exercises  of  this  kind,  he  will  acquire  in  rhetorical 
delivery,  may  be  transferred,  with  advantage,  to  his  own  composi- 
tions which  are  to  be  delivered  in  public;  and,  without  hazarding 
the  inconveniences  of  particular  notation,  he  will  find  himself  pos- 
sessed of  such  a  store  of  various,  forcible,  and  expressive  action, 
that,  whatever  his  feelings  shall  suggest  at  the  moment,  he  will  be 
able  to  execute  in  a  satisfactory  manner. 


GESTURE.  159 

QUESTIONS 

TO    BE    ANSWERED    BY   THE   PUPIL. 


ELOCUTION. 

Page  15.  What  is  Elocution  7  What  does  Elocution  comprise  7 
What  does  the  science  of  Elocution  embrace 7  What  does  the  art 
of  Elocution  embrace  ?  How  is  Elocution  divided  ?  What  is  Vo- 
cal Gymnastics  7  What  is  Gesture  7  How  is  Vocal  Gymnastics 
subdivided  7 

ARTICULATION. 

Page  16.  What  is  Articulation]  What  is  Pitch?  What  is 
Force  1  What  is  Time  7  Can  the  elements  of  vocal  language  be 
formed  separately  7  What  is  good  articulation  1  What  advantage 
results  from  good  articulation1? 

Page  17.  Can  one  be  a  good  reader,  or  speaker,  whose  articu- 
lation is  imperfect?  What  is  the  condition  of  the  organs  of  articu- 
lation in  those  who  have  never  been  in  the  practice  of  pronounc- 
ing their  words  distinctly  1  What  is  the  best  method  for  rendering 
the  muscles  of  articulation  obedient  to  the  commands  of  the  will  7 

Page  18.  What  are  the  elements  of  vocal  language  7  What 
is  the  number  of  letters  in  the  English  language?  What  is  the 
number  of  elements  in  the  English  language  7 

Page  19.  How  are  the  elements  divided  7  Describe  the  vow- 
els —  the  subvowels  —  the  aspirates.  Pronounce  the  vowels  —  the 
subvowels  —  the  aspirates. 

Page  20.  Why  are  not  C,  J,  Q,  and  X,  classed  with  the  ele- 
ments? 

Page  21.  How  are  the  vowels  divided  7  What  is  a  monothong  ? 
By  what  letters  are  the  monothongs  represented  7  What  is  a  diph- 
thong? By  what  letters  are  the  diphthongs  represented?  What 
are  the  constituents  of  the  diphthongs?  What  is  a  triphthong? 
By  what  letters  are  the  triphthongs  represented  ?  '  What  are  the 
constituents  of  the  triphthongs  ? 

Page  22.  Are  there  any  other  diphthongs  and  triphthongs  ? 
By  what  letters  are  they  represented  7  Do  they  increase  the  num- 
ber of  the  elements?  Give  an  analysis  of  them.  What  is  the 
condition  of  the  aperture  of  the  mouth,  during  the  utterance  of  a 
monothong  ?  —  a  diphthong  7  —  a  triphthong  7 


160  ELOCUTION. 

Page  23.  Of  what  does  B  consist,  and  how  is  it  formed  1  Of 
what  does  D  consist,  and  how  is  it  formed  1 

Page  24.  Describe  G.  What  is  L?  What  is  Ml  What  is 
N 1  What  is  NG 1  What  is  R,  and  how  many  varieties  are  there 
of  this  element?  When  should  R  be  trilled,  and  when  made 
smooth  ? 

Page  25.  What  is  TH,  in  then,  and  how  is  it  formed  ?  What 
is  V,  and  how  is  it  formed  1  Describe  W.  Describe  Y.  What  kind 
of  a  sound  is  Z,  in  zone,  and  how  is  it  formed  1  What  is  Z,  in 
azure,  and  how  is  it  formed]  How  is  F  formed'!  What  is  H? 
In  how  many  ways  may  H  be  uttered  ?  How  is  K  formed  1 

Page  26.  How  is  P  formed  1  Describe  S.  Describe  SH.  How 
is  T  formed?  Describe  TH,  in  thin.  What  is  WH,  and  what 
posture  of  the  mouth  does  it  require  1 

Page  27.  Are  there  any  elements  that  require  more  than  one 
posture  of  the  mouth'?  How  is  a  vowel  exploded?  What  advan- 
tage results  from  exploding  the  elements? 

Page  30.  What  is  defective  articulation  ?  Is  it  common  ?  From 
what  does  it  arise?  Children  are  apt  to  say  day  for  gay ;  tate  for 
cake,  &c.  —  how  may  these  faults  be  corrected  ? 

Page  31.  Some  children  pronounce  John,  don  ;  Charles,  tarles, 
&c.  —  how  may  these  faults  be  corrected  ? 

Page  32.  Some  persons  confound  V  and  W  —  what  exercises 
will  be  found  beneficial  in  correcting  these  faults?  In  correcting 
errors  in  articulation,  why  is  it  advantageous  to  practise  the  exer- 
cises before  a  mirror  ?  What  is  lisping  ?  What  is  the  remedy  for 
lisping  ? 

Page  33.  What  is  stammering?  How  does  the  cause  operate ? 
How  is  stammering  cured?  Does  every  case  require  the  same 
treatment  ?  Can  any  one  treat  stammering  successfully  1 

PITCH. 

Page  38.  What  is  pitch  1  There  are  two  divisions  of  pitch  — 
what  are  they  ? 

Page  39.  What  is  the  Diatonic  Scale  ?  What  is  the  order  of 
the  scale  ?  What  is  the  octave  ? 

Page  40.  What  is  an  interval  ?  What  is  a  discrete  interval  ? 
What  is  a  concrete  interval?  Name  the  principal  intervals. 
What  is  the  difference  between  a  major  third  and  ra  minor  third  ? 

Page  41.  How  many  sorts  of  voice  do  we  employ  in  the  ex- 
pression of  our  thoughts  ?  Describe  them.  What,  do  the  Italians 
mean  by  the  terms  voce  di  petto  and  voce  di  testa  ? 

Page  42.  Describe  the  whispering  voice.  In  what  respect 
does  the  female  voice  differ  from  that  of  the  male?  Describe  the 
voices  of  boys.  How  is  the  voice  divided?  What  is  the  orotund 
voice  ? 

Page  46.     To  what  range  of  pitch  is  the  speaking  voice  mostly 


QUESTIONS.  161 

confined,  in  good  elocution  ?     There  is  a  very  common  fault,  in  re- 
gard to  pitching  the  voice  —  what  is  itl 

Page  47.  What  are  inflections  1  How  many  different  inflec-^ 
tions  are  described  by  writers  on  Elocution  ?  In  what  respect  does 
a  rising  inflection  differ  from  a  falling  inflection  ? 

Page  49.  What  is  the  extent  of  the  concrete  intervals  of  the 
notes  of  speech  ?  Do  falling  inflections  traverse  the  same  range  of 
pitch  as  their  corresponding  rising  inflections? 

Page  50.  In  what  other  respect  do  these  inflections  differ  ? 
Give  some  account  of  the  circumflexes. 

Page  51.  Why  should  not  a  falling  inflection  be  used  for  the  sake  of 
mere  variety  ?  WThat  should  determine  the  direction  of  inflections  1 

Page  52.  What  is  melody1?  How  is  melody  distinguished 
from  harmony  1  What  is  notation  ?  What  is  intonation ?  On 
what  is  melody  founded  1 

Page  53.  In  what  respect  does  the  melody  of  speech  differ  from 
that  of  song ?  Is  it  necessary,  for  practical  purposes,  to  present 
every  syllable  in  speech  under  its  proper  note,  as  is  done  in  song  ? 

Page  54.  What  is  an  emphasis  melody?  Describe  the  staff 
of  speech.  Give  an  example  of  emphasis  melody.  What  is  the 
pitch-note  of  speech? 

Page  55.  On  which  line  of  the  staff  is  the  pitch-note  written  ? 
What  is  the  effect  of  reading  altogether  in  the  pitch-note  ?  How 
is  the  voice  properly  varied  in  pitch ?  Is  the  melody  of  speech  con- 
fined to  four  degrees  of  pitch,  whose  intervals  are  as  determinate  as 
those  of  the  Diatonic  Scale ?  Does  the  melody  of  speech  consist 
solely  of  emphasis  melodies  ?  Mention  some  points  in  which  the 
graphic  notes  of  song,  and  those  of  an  emphasis  melody,  differ. 
What  care  is  necessary  to  be  taken  in  reading  emphasis  melodies  ? 

Page  56.  What  is  modulation  ?  How  is  modulation  effected, 
and  with  what  is  it  generally  accompanied  ?  What  is  the  province 
of  modulation  ?  Describe  the  staff  of  modulation. 

Page  57.     Give  an  example  of  modulation. 

FORCE. 

Page  59.  What  is  force  1  How  is  force  divided  1  How  are 
the  terms  high  and  low,  and  loud  and  soft,  applied  to  force  ?  By 
what  are  the  nine  degrees  of  force  expressed  ? 

Page  60.  In  what  way  should  force  be  varied  ?  What  is  stress  ? 
What  is  radical  stress1?  What  is  median  stress? 

Page  61.  What  is  final  stress?  What  is  explosive  stress? 
What  is  tremour  ?  How  may  tremour  be  illustrated  ?  Why  is  it 
necessary  to  pay  attention  to  the  subject  of  force  ? 

TIME. 

Page  63.  What  is  time  ?  How  is  time,  in  music,  divided  ? 
How  does  the  time  of  speech  differ  from  that  of  song  ? 

14*  •    '  L 


162  ELOCUTION. 

Page  64.  What  is  quantity  1  By  what  characters  is  quantity 
represented  ]  What  is  their  relative  value  1  What  is  the  effect 
\>f  a  dot,  when  affixed  to  a  note,  or  rest  1  How  many  general 
modes  of  time  are  there  1  How  are  they  distinguished  "?  Name 
some  of  the  varieties  of  the  two  general  modes  of  time. 

Page  65.  What  is  movement  ?  How  should  the  rate  of  move- 
ment be  regulated  ? 

Page  66.  What  terms  are  employed  to  denote  the  rate  of  move- 
ment] What  are  the  three  chief  divisions  of  time  ?  Name  some 
of  the  terms  which  indicate  the  style  of  performance.  Are  not 
these  terms  sometimes  used  in  connexion  with  those  which  express 
the  movement  1  Give  an  example.  Is  the  rate  of  movement  de- 
finitely marked  by  the  terms,  Adagio,  Largo,  &c.  ]  How  may  it 
be  designated  with  precision  "?  Describe  the  Metronome. 

Page  67.  How  should  the  time  be  marked  on  the  Metronome,  in 
reading  ?  How  should  it  be  marked  in  music  1 

GESTURE. 

Page  69.  What  is  gesture  ]  How  may  the  postures  of  the 
body,  with  respect  to  vocal  delivery,  be  divided  ?  Describe  some 
of  the  unfavourable  postures. 

Page  72.  What  postures  are  favourable  to  vocal  delivery  1  In 
$hat  manner  should  the  book  be  held,  in  reading  ] 

Page  73.  In  demonstrating  on  the  black-board,  should  the  faco, 
or  back,  be  turned  towards  the  audience  1  What  is  the  cause  of 
the  general  neglect  with  which  the  cultivation  of  the  art  of  gesture 
has  hitherto  been  treated  ]  To  whom  is  the  world  indebted  for  a 
system  of  notation  of  gesture  ?  Give  an  example  of  the  notation. 

Page  74.  What  suggested  the  idea  of  this  system  of  notation  1 
What  may  be  reckoned  among  the  higher  objects  of  this  system  of 
notation  ? 

Page  76.  What  parts  of  the  body  are  brought  into  action,  in 
gesture  ?  What  should  be  the  external  deportment  of  the  orator  ] 
In  what  does  the  gracefulness  of  motion,  in  the  human  form,  consist? 

Page  77.  How  should  the  orator  stand,  to  be  graceful  1  How 
are  the  positions  of  the  feet  expressed  ?  Describe  the  first  position 
of  the  right  foot. 

Page  78.  Describe  the  second  position  of  the  right  foot.  What 
is  the  first  position  of  the  left  foot  ? 

Page  79.  Describe  the  second  position  of  the  left  foot.  Which 
is  the  proper  reading  position  ? 

Page  80.  Which  is  the  proper  rising  position  of  the  orator  1 
Describe  the  positions  in  front. 

Page  81.  Describe  the  positions  of  the  feet  in  the  extended 
state.  Describe  the  contracted  position.  What  attitudes  and  po- 
sitions should  the  orator  adopt  ? 

Page  82.  In  changing  the  positions  of  the  feet,  how  should  the 


QUESTIONS.  163 

motions  be  made?  Why  should  an  orator  not  change  his  position 
frequently  1  What  are  the  several  acts  resulting  irom  the  changes 
in  the  positions  of  the  feet,  and  how  are  they  noted  ?  How  are  two 
or  more  steps  expressed  ?  How  are  changes  of  position,  or  steps,  to 
be  madel 

Page  83.  How  many  steps  may  be  made  from  each  original 
position  1  Describe  them. 

Page  84,  85.  By  what  sort  of  a  diagram  is  the  present  system 
of  gesture  exemplified  1 

Page  86.  To  what  are  postures  and  motions  of  the  arm  referred, 
and  how  are  they  noted  1 

Page  87.  How  many  primary  postures  of  the  arm  are  there? 
How  are  the  fifteen  primary  postures  of  the  arm  more  particularly 
noted  ? 

Page  89.  In  referring  gestures  to  certain  points  in  a  sphere,  is 
mathematical  precision  necessary  ?  What  is  there  peculiar  in  the 
colloquial  elevations  of  the  arm  1 

Page  91.  How  does  the  degree  of  energy,  proceeding  from  the 
sentiment  of  desire,  or  aversion,  influence  the  character  of  gesture  1 
How  is  the  notation  varied,  to  mark  the  different  degrees  of  exten- 
sion of  the  arm  ? 

Page  91.  Enumerate  some  of  the  postures  of  the  arm  which 
are  named  from  the  manner  of  holding  the  arm,  or  resting  it  upon 
the  body. 

Page  93.  By  what  circumstances  are  the  postures  of  the  hand 
determined  ?  Describe  some  of  the  postures  belonging  to  the  first 
class. 

Page  96.  Describe  the  postures  of  the  second  class,  which  de- 
pend on  the  manner  of  presenting  the  palm. 

Page  97.  Describe  the  postures  of  the  third  class,  arising  from 
the  combined  disposition  of  the  hands. 

Page  98.     Describe  the  fourth  class. 

Page  100.  Why  may  any  posture  of  the  arm,  or  hand,  sustain 
different  significant  characters  1  How  are  the  motions  of  the  hands 
and  arms  considered,  and  how  are  they  noted  1 

Page  101.  What  is  noting  1  What  is  projecting,  or  pushing  ? 
How  is  waving  performed,  and  how  is  it  noted  1  How  is  the 
flourish  performed,  and  how  is  it  noted  ?  What  is  the  sweep,  and 
how  is  it  noted  1 

Page  102.  What  is  beckoning  1  What  is  repressing  1  What 
is  striking,  and  how  is  it  noted  ]  What  is  recoiling  1 

Page  103.  How  is  advancing  performed  ?  What  is  springing  I 
What  is  throwing  ?  What  is  clinching  ?  How  is  collecting  per- 
formed 1  What  is  shaking  1  What  is  pressing  ?  What  is  re- 
tracting ?  What  is  rejecting  ?  What  is  bending  ? 

Page  104.  Why  should  an  orator  hold  his  head  erect  ?  To 
what  should  the  movements  of  the  head  be  adapted  ?  Name  the 


164  ELOCUTION. 

principal  postures  and  motions  of  the  head,  and  direction  of  the  eyes, 
with  their  notation  letters. 

Page  105.  In  what  manner  should  the  motions  of  the  body  ac- 
company those  of  the  hands  and  arms'?  What  forms  the  grand 
instrument  of  gesture  1  Where  is  the  centre  of  motion  of  this  com- 
pound instrument]  Do  these  parts  move  together  in  the  manner 
of  an  inflexible  line  ?  In  gesticulating,  does  this  complex  instru- 
ment continue  long  in  one  direct  line,  or  in  any  particular  flexure? 

Page  106.  What  is  the  stroke  of  the  gesture?  Should  the 
stroke  of  the  gesture  always  be  made  with  the  same  degree  offeree  ? 
To  what  is  the  stroke  of  the  gesture  analogous  1  Are  there  any 
other  points  of  analogy  between  the  voice  and  gesture  ? 

Page  107.  Is  it  important  that  the  stroke  of  the  gesture  should 
fall  precisely  on  the  accented  syllable  of  the  emphatic  word  ?  W7hat 
kind  of  gesture  is  that  which  is  called  sawing  the  air  ?  With  what 
effect  are  all  unmeaning  motions  of  public  speakers  attended? 

Page  108.  What  is  meant  by  the  terms  principal  gesture,  and 
subordinate  gesture  ?  What  are  significant  gestures  1 

Page  109.  Are  the  majority  of  gestures  significant?  What  do 
gestures,  in  general,  denote  ?  Into  how  many  classes  are  these 
various  gestures  divided  !  What  are  commencing  gestures  ?  What 
are  discriminating  gestures? 

Page  110.  What  are  auxiliary  gestures?  W7hat  are  suspend- 
ing gestures?  What  are  emphatic  gestures? 

Page  111.     Give  illustrations  of  these  several  gestures. 

Page  112.  May  these  five  classes  of  gestures  be  used  in  any 
part  of  discourse?  Do  modern  orators  ever  perform  the  principal 
gesture  with  the  left  hand  ?  Is  not  this  practice  at  variance  with 
the  rules  of  Quintilian  ?  How  do  you  account  for  this  difference 
between  the  customs  of  the  ancient  and  modern  orators?  On  what 
occasions  may  the  left  hand  perform  the  principal  gesture?  Do  the 
moderns  violate  another  precept  of  Quintilian  ? 

Page  113.  Under  what  circumstances  do  the  corresponding 
hand  and  foot  naturally  advance  together?  When  may  the  con- 
trary hand  and  foot  advance  together?  In  the  transitions  of  ges- 
ture, should  the  hand  and  arm  always  be  precipitated  to  the  intended 
position  by  the  shortest  course  ?  Describe  some  of  these  curves. 

Page  114.  For  what  purpose  is  this  indirect  line  used?  By 
what  is  the  extent  of  the  return,  or  depth  of  the  sweep,  deter- 
mined? Does  the  preparation  made  by  these  curves  suit  every 
species  of  gesture?  What  kinti  of  preparation  is  generally  made 
for  emphatic  gestures? 

Page  115.     Illustrate  it  by  examples. 

Page  116.  What  is  the  connexion  of  gesture,  and  how  is  it 
shown  ?  How  is  the  connexion  of  gesture,  in  the  vertical  direction, 
noted  ? 

Page  117.     Illustrate  the  connexion  of.  gesture  in  the  vertical 


QUESTIONS.  165 

direction  by  an  example?  To  what  does  the  transition  of  gesture 
relate,  and  what  does  it  signify  ?  May  a  gesture  have  a  very 
different  character  and  effect,  according  to  the  manner  in  which 
the  hand  arrives  at  its  destined  point?  Why  do  painters  generally 
choose  to  represent  the  suspending  gestures]  To  what  does  the 
transition  of  gesture  particularly  relate? 

Page  118.  If  the  passage  to  be  pronounced  be  of  considerable 
length,  why  should  the  right  hand  perform  the  principal  gesture 
throughout  the  whole  of  it)  Under  what  circumstances  may  the 
right  hand  yield  to  the  left  the  performance  of  the  principal  gesture  ? 

Page  119.  May  not  this  balancing,  or  alternation  of  gesture,  be 
carried  to  an  affected  extreme  ?  How  should  the  transition  of  ges- 
ture, from  one  hand  to  the  other,  be  managed  !  What  is  the  gene- 
ral rule,  in  regard  to  changing  the  position  of  the  feet  1 

Page  120.  What  is  the  general  rule  for  accompaniment  of  ges- 
ture, in  calm  and  moderate  speaking,  when  both  hands  do  not  per- 
form the  same  gesture?  What  important  accompaniments  are  to 
be  attended  to  besides  the  motions  of  the  subordinate  gesture? 

Page  121.  Give  an  example  of  some  of  the  stronger  changes  of 
the  head,  body,  and  lower  limbs,  which  accompany  certain  principal 
gestures. 

Page  122.  Describe,  in  their  natural  order,  the  several  motions 
which  may  be  employed  in  expressing  aversion.  What  is  the  close 
and  termination  of  gesture,  and  '.n  what  manner  should  it  be  ef- 
fected ?  Should  a  single  word,  or  idea,  be  marked  with  more  than 
one  emphatic  stroke? 

Page  123.  Is  there  any  particular  point  of  elevation  at  which 
emphatic  gestures  should  terminate  ?  Should  gesture  be  limited, 
in  its  application,  to  any  particular  words  and  passages  ?  For  what 
parts  of  the  oration  will  a  judicious  speaker  reserve  the  force  and 
ornament  of  gesture  ?  By  what  should  the  frequency  of  gesture  be 
determined  ? 

Page  124.  In  what  kind  of  sentences  may  a  gesture  be  made 
on  each  word  ?  Why  should  a  sentence  be  slowly  delivered,  in 
which  a  gesture  is  made  on  almost  every  word  ?  Does  the  em- 
phatic gesture  always  fall  on  those  words  which  are  the  principal, 
in  a  grammatical  sense  —  the  nouns  and  verbs  ?  Under  what  cir- 
cumstances should  gestures,  which  are  noted  alike,  be  varied  ? 

Page  125.  Should  there  be  any  cessation  of  gesture  during  the 
delivery  of  a  discourse  ?  What  is  gesture  said  to  hold  the  place  of? 
How,  then,  should  it  be  managed  ?  What  are  the  principal  quali- 
ties which  constitute  the  perfection  of  gesture  ?  How  is  magnifi- 
cence of  gesture  effected  ? 

Page  126.  What  are  the  opposite  imperfections  ?  From  what 
does  boldness  of  gesture  arise  ?  What  is  the  opposite  imperfection  ? 
Of  what  does  energy  of  gesture  consist  ?  What  are  the  opposite 
imperfections  ?  Of  what  does  variety  of  gesture  consist  ?  What 


166  ELOCUTION. 

is  the  opposite  imperfection  1  What  is  simplicity  of  gesture  ? 
What  is  the  opposite  imperfection  ?  What  is  grace  of  gesture  1 

Page  127.  What  is  the  opposite  imperfection  ?  What  is  pro- 
priety of  gesture?  What  are  the  opposite  imperfections?  From 
what  does  precision  of  gesture  arise  ?  What  are  the  opposite  im- 
perfections 1  What  are  the  three  general  modes  of  public  speak- 
ing ?  Does  each  require  a  different  style  of  gesture  ?  What  does 
epic  gesture  demand  ? 

Page  128.  What  does  rhetorical  gesture  require  ?  What  does 
colloquial  gesture  require  ?  Under  what  circumstances  should  the 
gestures  of  the  public  speaker  be  principally  of  that  class  which  is 
called  discriminating  gestures  1  How  should  he  perform  them  ? 
From  what  does  the  charge,  which  is  sometimes  made  against  pub- 
lic speakers,  of  being  theatrical  in  their  gesture,  probably  arise  ? 

Page  129.  On  what  occasions  should  the  public  speaker  use 
more  graceful,  more  flowing,  and  more  varied  gesture  ?  What 
should  he  guard  against,  and  how  should  all  his  gestures  be  regu- 
lated ?  What  are  the  most  important  significant  gestures  of  the 
head  and  face  ?  What  are  the  most  important  significant  gestures 
of  the  eyes  1 

Page  130.  What  are  the  most  important  significant  gestures 
of  the  arms  ?  Name  some  of  the  most  important  significant  ges- 
tures of  the  body.  What  are  some  of  the  most  important  signifi- 
cant gestures  of  the  lower  limbs  1 

Page  131.  What  is  Lord  Kames's  definition  of  grace?  On 
what  does  the  gracefulness  of  rhetorical  action  depend  ?  Where  is 
grace  to  be  found  ?  Can  true  grace  and  consummate  eloquence  be 
acquired  by  every  one  1  In  what  does  the  grace  of  oratorical  ac- 
tion consist  ?  Why  should  action,  to  be  graceful,  be  performed 
with  facility?  Why  should  it  be  performed  with  freedom? 

Page  132.  What  are  some  of  the  situations  in  which  it  would 
be  impossible  for  an  orator  to  be  truly  graceful  ?  Is  the  restraint 
arising  from  diffidence  prejudicial  to  grace  ?  How  may  it  be  cor- 
rected ?  What  is  indispensable  for  the  maintenance  of  grace  in 
rhetorical  action  ?  Do  simplicity  and  truth  of  manner  constitute 
grace  ?  What  effect  have  gestures,  which  are  contrived  for  the 
mere  display  of  the  person,  or  for  the  exhibition  of  some  foppery, 
as,  for  instance,  a  fine  ring  ?  What  effect  has  affectation  upon  ora- 
torical grace  ?  What  are  some  of  the  faults  of  manner  ? 

Page  133.  Why  is  the  action  of  young  children  never  deficient 
in  grace  1  In  what  does  the  grace  of  action  consist,  according  to 
Hogarth  ?  Is  his  definition  correct  ?  From  what  does  rhetorical 
action  derive  its  grace  ? 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


HAVING  treated  of  the  principles  of  Reading  and 
Speaking,  it  is  now  necessary,  in  order  to  render  this 
Work  an  entire  System  of  Elocuti(5ri,  to  furnish  the 
pupil  with  appropriate  Exercises  for  the  practical 
application  of  these  principles. 

The  Exercises  are  divided  into  two  Parts.  Part  I. 
consists  of  Exercises  in  Articulation,  Pitch,  Force, 
Time,  and  Gesture.  Part  II.  consists  of  Exercises  in 
Reading  and  Declamation. 

PART    I. 

EXERCISES  IN  ARTICULATION,  PITCH, 
FORCE,  TIME,   AND  GESTURE. 

FIRST    EXERCISE. 
Table  of  the  Elements  of  the  English  Language. 

VOWELS.  SUBVOWELS.  ASPIRATES. 

ALE  BOW  FAME 

ARM  DAY  HUT 

ALL  GAY  KITE 

AN  LIGHT  PIT 

EVE  MIND  SIN 

END  NO  TIN 

ILE  SONG  SHADE 

IN  ROLL  THIN 

OLD  ORB  WHAT 

LOSE  THEN 

ON  VILE  VOWEL   COMPOUNDS 

TUBE  WO  OIL 

UP  YOKE  AY 

FULL  ZONE  BOY 

OUR  AZURE  BUOY 

This  Exercise  should  be  practised  as  follows :  1.  Utter  each  ele- 
ment with  the  falling  inflection,  the  vowels  with  explosive  force. 

(167) 


168 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


2.  Utter  each  vowel  and  subvowel,  alternately,  with  the  rising1  and 
falling  inflection.  3.  Utter  the  vowels  with  the  falling  inflection, 
alternately,  in  a  high  and  low  pitch.  4.  Utter  each  vowel  in  the 
medium  pitch  of  the  natural  voice,  then  in  the  falsetto,  and  lastly, 
in  the  lowest  note  of  the  natural  voice.  5.  Pronounce  every  word 
under  the  head  Subvoivels,  as  well  as  under  the  head  Aspirates,  in 
the  following  manner:  make  a  full  inspiration,  and  dwell  for  two 
or  three  seconds  on  tine  initial  element ;  then  utter  the  remainder 
of  the  word  with  a  sudden  and  forcible  expulsion  of  the  breath.* 


SECOND    EXERCISE. 

In  this  Exercise,  every  vowel  is  preceded  by  every  subvowel, 
nnd  by  every  aspirate. 
iiii|eelll|666    |ddd|ou. 
bi  bi  bi  bi  |  be  be  |  bl  bl  |  b6  b6   b6  |  bd   bd  bd   |   bou. 

di 

di  di 

di 

|de 

de  | 

dl 

dl 

d6  d6  d6  | 

dd  dd  dd  | 

dou. 

g^ 

ga  gi 

& 

Igfe 

& 

|g* 

gl 

|g6 

g6  g6 

|gu 

gd   gd 

|gou. 

li 

li    li 

li  | 

le 

le    | 

11 

li 

1   1& 

16  16 

1   1" 

Id  Id  ] 

lou. 

mi    mi    mi    ma 
mu  md  md   |    mou. 

|    me    me 

|    ml    ml 

m6 

m6    m6    | 

ni 

ni   ni 

ni 

|nfe 

ne| 

nl 

nl 

j  n6 

n6    n6 

|  nd 

nd   mi 

nou. 

ri 

ri  ri 

ri 

re 

re 

|   rl 

rl 

|  r6 

r6  r6 

|  rd 

rd  ru 

|  rou. 

TJfH,     TITct,    THcl    THcl  1   THC     TUG     1    Till    Till 
THd    THd    THU  j  THOU. 

TH6 

TH6    TH6    j 

vi 

vi  vi 

vi 

|  ve 

ve  \ 

vl 

vl  | 

v6  v6   v6  | 

vu   vd   vd 

vou. 

wi 

wa  wi 

wa 

j  w£ 

we 

wl 

wl 

|  w6  w6  w6 

wu  wd  wu  j 

wou. 

yi 

yi  yi 

yi 

|ye 

ye| 

yi 

yi 

|y6 

y6  y6 

yd 

yd  yd 

you. 

4i 

4i  4i 

4i 

4e 

4e  | 

41 

41 

|  46 

46   46 

|  4d 

4d    4u 

|  4ou. 

2i 

2i  4i 

2i 

4e 

4e| 

41 

21 

26 

46  26 

ad 

2d  2u 

2ou. 

fa 

fi'fi  fa    | 

fe 

fe    | 

fl 

fl 

1    f6 

f6  f6 

fd 

fd   fu 

fou. 

hi 

hi  hi 

hi 

|  he 

he-  | 

hi 

hi 

|  h6 

h6   h6 

hd 

hd  hd 

hou. 

ki 

ki  ki 

ki 

|ke 

ke 

kl 

kl 

|  k6 

k6  k6 

kd 

kd  kd 

kou. 

pi 

pi  pi 

pi 

|pe 

pe| 

Pi 

Pi 

1  Pi 

p6  p6 

pu 

pd   pu 

pou. 

si 

si  si 

si 

se 

s£ 

si 

si 

|  s6 

s6  s6 

|sd 

sd  su 

sou. 

*  As  song  and  orb  do  not  begin  with  a  subvowel,  they  should 
be  omitted  in  this  exercise.  And  as  it  is  impossible  to  dwell  on  the 
aspirate,  A,  the  word  hut  may  also  be  omitted. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  169 

shi  shi  shi  shi  |  she  she  |  shl  shi  |  sh6  sho  shd  j 
shii  shu  shu  |  shou. 

ti  ti  ti  ti   |   te  te   |   tl   tl   |   t6   td  t6    |   tu   tu  tu   |  ton. 

Mi  Mi  Mi  Mi  |  Me  Me  |  Mi  Mi  |  M6  Md  M6  | 
Mil  Mi  Mu  |  Mou. 

whi  wha  whi  whi  |  whe  whe  |  whl  whi  |  whd  wh6  wh6  j 
whu  whu  whu  |  whou. 

THIRD    EXERCISE. 

The  object  of  this  Exercise  is  to  bring  into  proper  play  the 
muscles  of  the  lips,  and  enable  the  pupil  to  pronounce  with  facility, 
v,  w,  and  wh,  in  certain  situations,  and  to  distinguish  between  them, 
wi  -  vi  vi  -  wi  6v  -  wi  wi  -  whi 


Wi 

-vi 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi 

wi  - 

whi 

wi 

-vi 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi 

wi  - 

whi 

wi 

-vi 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi 

wi  - 

whi 

we 

-ve 

v£  - 

we 

dv- 

we 

we  - 

whe 

we 

-ve 

ve   - 

we 

dv  - 

we 

we   - 

whe 

wi 

-vi 

vi    - 

wi 

dv  - 

wl 

wi    - 

whl 

wi 

-vi 

vi    - 

wi 

dv  • 

wi 

wi    - 

whl 

wd 

-vd 

vd  - 

wd 

dv  - 

wd 

wd  - 

whd 

wd 

-vd 

vd   - 

wd 

dv  - 

wd 

wd   - 

whd 

wd 

-vd 

vd   - 

wd 

dv  - 

wd 

wd  - 

whd 

wu 

-vu 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi  * 

wi  - 

whi 

wu 

-vu 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi 

wi  - 

whi 

wu 

-vu 

vi  - 

wi 

dv  - 

wi 

wi  - 

whi 

wou-vou 

vou  - 

wou 

dv  - 

wou 

wou- 

whou 

FOURTH 

EXERCISE 

.* 

di 

-gi 

ti  - 

ki 

THi 

-  4i 

Mi  - 

si 

di 

-ga 

ti  - 

ki 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

da 

-ga 

ti  - 

ki 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

di 

-  ffi 

ti  - 

ki 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

de 

-  g^ 

te   - 

k6 

THe 

-  ie 

Me   - 

se 

de 

*  ge 

te   - 

ke 

THC 

-  ie 

Me   - 

se 

di 

•  gi 

ti    - 

kl 

THi 

-  il 

Mi    - 

si 

dl 

•gi 

ti    - 

ki 

THi 

-  41 

Ml    - 

si 

dd 

-go 

td   - 

kd 

THd 

-  id 

Md  - 

sd 

dd 

-go 

td   - 

kd 

THd 

-  id 

Md  - 

sd 

dd 

-go 

td   - 

kd 

THd 

-  id 

Md   - 

sd 

du 

-gu 

ti  - 

ki 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

du 

-gu 

ti   - 

ki 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

du 

-gu 

ti   - 

ku 

THi 

-  ii 

Mi  - 

si 

dou 

-  gou 

tou  - 

kou 

THOU 

-  iou 

Mou  - 

sou 

*  The  design  of  this  exercise  is  to  bring  into  proper  action  the 
15 


170 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


FIFTH    EXERCISE. 

The  object  of  this  Exercise  is  to  enable  the  pupil  to  utter  per- 
fectly the  subvowels  and  aspirates,  when  they  are  the  final  elements 
of  words. 


ab  eb  ib  ob  ub 
ad  ed  id  od  ud 
ag  eg  ig  og  ug 
al  el  il  ol  ul 
am  em  im  om  urn 
an  en  in  on  un 


ang  eng  mg  ong  ung 
ar     er     ir     or     ur 

aTH   CTH    iTH   OTH    UTH 

av  ev  iv  ov  uv 
ai  ei  ii  ob  ui 
a£  e2  12  o2  u4 


af  ef  if  of  uf 
ak  ek  ik  ok  uk 
ap  ep  ip  op  up 
ash  esh  ish  osh  ush 
at  et  it  ot  ut 
nth  eth  ith  oth  uth 


N,  and  NG,  contrasted, 
an,  ang;  en,  eng;  in,  ing;  on,  ong;  un,  ung. 


SIXTH    EXERCISE. 

This  Exercise  exhibits  the  analysis  of  words  in  which  there  are 
easy  combinations  of  elements.  In  the  first  column  the  words  are 
presented  as  they  are  usually  spelled ;  in  the  second,  their  elements 
are  separated  by  hyphens.  The  pupil  should  spell  the  words,  ut- 
tering, separately,  each  element,  and  not  the  name  of  the  letter,  as 
is  generally  done  in  the  schools. 


ale  

a-1 

end  

£-n-d 

dav 

d-i 

savs 

..  s-e-i 

d-2-a-n 

said  

s-fc-d 

arm           .       .  . 

a-r-ni 

isle  

1.1 

baa 

b-a 

cart    «           ... 

k-a-r-t 

ink  

.  i-nff-k 

all  

4-1 

oak  

....  Lk 

law        •    

1-a 

....  b-6 

orb 

a-r-b 

lose  .... 

1.6-i 

awe    • 

i 

d-i-6-n 

morn            •      • 

m-a-r-n 

few  

f.U 

muscles  which  move  the  tip,  and  root  of  the  tongue,  and  to  contrast 
the  elements,  d  and  g,  and  t  and  A;,  which,  by  children,  are  some- 
times confounded.  The  want  of  entire  command  of  the  muscles  of 
the  tongue  and  lips,  is  the  reason  why  some  persons  speak  thick,  as 
it  is  called.  A  part  of  this  Exercise  is  adapted  to  the  case  of  lispers, 
those  who  substitute  the  subvowel  TH  for  i ;  and  the  aspirate  J&, 
for*. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


171 


add  . 
lamb 
eve  . 
pea., 
key  . 
field  , 
people 


1-a-m 


view v-a 

suit s-u-t 

feud f-u-d 

her h-u-r 

sir s-u-r 

wolf w-u-l-f 

now  . .  .  n-ou 


SEVENTH    EXERCISE. 


This  Exercise  exhibits  the  analysis  of  words  in  which  there  are 
difficult  combinations  of  elements, 

worlds  w-u-r-1-d-i 

tracts  t-r-a-k-t-s 

friendship  f-r-e-n-d-sh-i-p 

attempts  eUt-t-£-m-p-t-s 

exhausts  e-g-2-h-a-s-t-s 

precepts  p-r-e-s-e-p-t-s 

themselves  TH-e-m-s-£-l-v-z 

suspects  s-u-s-p-e-k-t-s 

resolves  r-e-i-6-l-v-i 

exists 

thousands 

thousandth 

objects  6-b-d-2-£-k-t-s 

EIGHTH   EXERCISE. 

This  is  an  Exercise  in  Pitch.  The  first  four  notes,  counting 
from  below,  belong  to  the  natural  voice ;  the  fifth,  to  the  falsetto. 
The  pupil  should  pronounce  the  letters,  a,  e,  i,  a,  in  the  ascending 
and  descending  order  of  the  scale,  and  with  the  rising  and  falling 
inflection,  as  represented  by  the  notes.  He  should  then,  in  like 
manner,  pronounce  each  vowel  element  —  ascending  and  descend- 
ing, as  before. 

Diag.  2. 

6 


months 

m-ft-n-JA-s 

rhythm 

T-l-th-m 

twists 

t-w-i-s-t-s 

breadths 

b-r-k-d-th-s 

tasks 

t-&-s-k-s 

acts 

&-k-t-s 

shrinks 

sh-r-1-ng-k-s 

hands 

h-a-n-d-i 

mists 

m-i-s-t-s 

truths 

l-r-u-th-8 

baths 

b-i-TH-i 

paths 

p-a-TH-i 

sixths 

s-1-k-s-th-s 

-a-a- 


-a-a- 


—  i—  r— 

-v  u— 

—  u—  u— 

mi.  jnesiuem, 

-e-e- 

-i-i- 

-6-6- 

-U-U- 

Mr.  President, 

P-P- 

-i-i- 

-6-6- 

-U-U- 

Mr.  President, 

^     I/ 

-e-e- 

-i-i- 

-6-6- 

-u-d- 

Mr.  President, 

-e-e- 

-i-i- 

-6-6- 

-u-u- 

Mr.  President, 

172 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


NINTH    EXERCISE. 

The  pupil  should  pronounce  all  the  vowels,  which  admit  of  long 
quantity,  alternately  with  the  rising  and  falling  inflection,  through 
various  intervals  of  pitch,  as  shown  by  the  Diagram. 

Diag.  22. 


ill 


4?  4. 

41  4. 

4?  4. 

fcl  6. 

I?  i. 

6?  6. 

6!  6. 

ul  u. 


41    4. 
41    4. 


1  1  1. 

6?  6. 

6?  6. 

i?  u. 

ou?  ou. 


41  4.  41    4.  41  4.  41  '4. 

41  4.  41    4.  41  4.  41  4. 

41  4.  41    4.  41  4.  41  4. 

61  6.  61    6.  61  6.  61  6. 

il  1.  111.  11  1.  11  1. 

61  6.  61    6.  61  6.  61  6. 

61  6.  61    6.  6?  6.  6?  6. 

ul  u.  ul    u.  ul  u.  ul  u. 

ou  1  ou.  ou  1  ou.  ou  1  ou.  ou  1  ou. 


TENTH   EXERCISE. 


EMPHASIS    MELODIES. 


Diag.  23. 


Diag.  24. 


V 

A 

f 

V 

m  

field,          house,     temple.        thunder,      battle,       heaven, 

A  storm  of  universal  fire,  blasted  every  field*,  con- 
sumed every  house',  and  destroyed  every  temxple. 

Then  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riv'n, 
Then  rush'd  the  steed  to  battle  driv'n, 
And  louder  than  the  bolts  of  heaven, 
Far  flash'd  the  red  artiMery. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  173 

Diag.  25.  Diag.  26. 


? 

V 

•)  1 

—  a  — 

tower,     shine,     glad,  terrible,     man,    woman,   child,    beast. 

Ye  are  the  things  that  towver,  that  shinev,  whose 
smile  makes  glad',  whose  frown  is  terrible. 

They  did  not  see  one  manv,  not  one  wo^man,  not  one 
childx,  not  one  four-footed  beast',  of  any  description 
whatever. 

Diag.  27.  Diag.  28. 


(J) 

V 

V 

v 

A  

A  _ 

exulting,  trembling,  raging,  fainting,     disturbed,  delighted,  raised,    refined. 

Exulting,  trembling,  ra  ging,  faint  ing, 
Possess'd  beyond  the  Muse's  painting. 
By  turns  they  felt  the  glowing  mind, 
Disturb'dv,  delight'ed,  rais'ds  refin'dx. 

Diag.  29. 


fl 

f, 

V 

A 

1 

A 

V 

—  m  — 

seasonless,  herblesa,    treeless,      manless,     lifeless,         death,        clay. 

The  populous  and  the  powerful  was  a  lump, 
Seaxsonless,  herbJess,  treeless,  man'less,  li 
A  lump  of  deatb  —  a  chaos  of  hard  clayx. 

Diag.  30. 


poor,  rich,  abject,  august,       complicate,     wonderful. 

15* 


174  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

How  poon,  how  richx,  how  abject,  how  august* 
How  complicate,  how  wonvderful  is  man ! 

Diag.31. 


time,       wrong,  contumely,    love,       delay,       office,     spume, 

For  who  would  bear  the  whips  and  scorns  of  timex, 
The  oppressor's  wrongv,  the  proud  man's  contumely, 
The  pang  of  despised  lovev,  the  law's  delays 
The  insolence  of  office,  and  the  spurns/ 
That  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, 
When  he  himself  might  his  quietus  make 
With  a  bare  bod\kin  1 


INTERROGATIVE   SENTENCES. 

There  is  nothing  peculiar  in  the  melody  of  interrogative  sentences, 
when  they  are  pronounced  with  the  falling  inflection ;  but,  when 
they  are  pronounced  with  the  rising  inflection,  they  are  character- 
ized as  follows: 

When  a  question  is  asked  simply  for  information,  and  there  is 
but  one  emphatic  syllable  in  it,  this  syllable  rises  concretely  from 
the  pitch-note  line,  through  the  interval  of  a  third,  or  fifth  (or  there- 
abouts), according  to  the  degree  of  energy  with  which  the  sentence 
is  pronounced.  And  the  syllables  which  follow  the  interrogative 
note  (if  I  may  so  call  it),  are  pronounced  in  the  pitch  of  the  upper 
extreme  of  this  note,  thus :  — 

Diag.  32. 

A 


-  w- 

m 

A 

With 

you, 

and 

quit 

my 

Su 

-  san's      side  1 

When 
)effins  a  (3 

a  question 
esrree  belo\ 

is  asked 
v  the  pitc 

with 
h-not 

surprise, 
e,  and  ris( 

the  interrogative  not 
js,  concretely,  about 

PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


4 

A 

§••33. 

4 

A        4 

A 

4. 

With    you !     and        quit       my          Su  -  san's      side. 

renounced  w 
iclody  would 

Diag.  34. 


Should  Susan's  also  be  pronounced  with  emphatic  force,  but  with 
less  energy  than  you,  the  melody  would  be  as  follows:  — 


I           4 

A 

A 

—  v  v  — 

A               I               * 

!     1 

With     you!      and        quit        my        Su  -  san's    side! 
Susan's,  be 

Diag.  35. 


Should  side,  instead  of  Susan's,  be  made  emphatic,  the  melody 
would  be  thus :  — 


i 

4 

A 

A 

A 

t      1 

4 

1 

9 

V1 

1 

-1— 

With    you !        and       quit       my         Su   -    san's    side ! 

And  should  you,  Susan's,  and  side,  be  all  pronounced  with  empha- 
tic force,  the  melody  wonld  be  as  follows :  — 

Diag.  36. 


I 


With      you!      and        quit        my         Su   -    san's     side! 

is  apt  to  be 
ir,  be  read  U 

Diag.  37. 


The  following-  sentence  is  apt  to  be  read  to  the  melody  of  dia- 
gram 33  ;  it  should,  however,  be  read  to  that  of  Diagram  37. 


A 

-A  . 

4 

A         4 

A 

With    you!       the        hap    -    less        bus  -  band     cried, 


176 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


The  phrase,  "  the  hapless  husband  cried"  is  not  a  part  of  the 
interrogation,  but  is  parenthetical,  and  should  be  read  one  degree 
lower  than  the  pitch-note. 

ELEVENTH    EXERCISE. 

FORCE. 

The  pupil  should  utter  all  the  vowel  sounds  with  the  rising  and 
falling  inflection,  in  each  of  the  nine  degrees  offeree.  He  should 
then  read,  or  recite,  some  passage  in  each  of  these  degrees,  begin- 
ning as  soft  as  possible,  thus  :  — 


ppp 


Diag.  38. 


PP 


4 
mp 


6 
m/ 


I  a   a 

I 


a    a 


J= 

s* 


a    a 


a    a 

£ 

.2 


a    a 


a     a 


a    a 


.2 


I 


TWELFTH    EXERCISE. 

MODULATION. 

There  are  many  persons  who  do  not  vary  the  pitch  and  force  of 
their  voices  according  to  the  varying  demands  of  sentiment.  They 
read  every  thing  alike  ;  and  they  do  not  appear  capable  of  imitating 
a  correct  manner  of  speaking.  In  such  cases,  I  have  found  it  ne- 
cessary, in  order  to  break  up  established  habits,  and  direct  the  voice, 
as  it  were,  into  a  new  channel,  to  institute  exercises  in  which  the 
pitch  and  force  of  the  voice  are  varied  in  the  wildest  and  most  ex- 
travagant manner.  For  instance,  I  select  some  piece,  and  divide  it 
into  sections.  The  first  of  these  sections  I  pronounce  in  the  falsetto 
voice,  and  request  the  pupil,  or,  what  is  better,  the  whole  class,  to 
pronounce  it  in  like  manner;  the  second  section  I  pronounce  in  the 
jowest  note  of  the  natural  voice,  and  it  is  immediately  repeated  by 
the  class ;  the  third,  in  the  highest  note  of  the  natural  voice ;  the 
fourth  in  a  whisper ;  the  fifth,  in  the  medium  pitch  of  the  natural 
voice;  and  so  on.  After  exercising  awhile  in  this  manner,  the 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


177 


pupil  is  able  to  appreciate  smaller  intervals  of  pitch  ;  and  the  voices 
of  the  whole  class  are  ultimately  brought  into  the  same  key,  as  is 
done  in  singing.  The  following  is  an  exercise  of  the  kind  to  which 
I  allude. 


Falsetto. 

My   brave    associates, 


Lowest  note  of  the  natural  voice. 

partners  of  my   toil,    | 


Highest  note  of  n.v.    Whispering  voice.  Medium  note  of  natural  voice 

my  feelings,  |  and   my   fame  !    |  can  Holla's  words  | 

Highest  note  n.  v.      Lowest  note  of  the  natural  voice.  Falsetto. 

add   vigour  |  to  the  virtuous  energies  |  which  inspire 

Lowest  note. 

your  hearts?    |   No! 


THIRTEENTH    EXERCISE. 

TREMOUR. 

The  pupil  should  pronounce  all  the  vowels  which  admit  of  long 
quantity,  with  a  tremulous  movement  of  the  voice,  as  shown  by  the 
following  diagram :  — 

Diag.  39. 


( 
| 

I 

i  ! 

4      >      1        k      i       i 

The  vowels,  &.,  &,  &,  1,  6,  6,  u,  and  ou,  should  be  pronounced  in 
the  same  manner. 

The  accented  syllable  of  the  words  printed  in  italics,  in  the  fol- 
lowing passages,  may  be  pronounced  with  the  tremour. 

That  wash  thy  hallow'd  feet,  and  warbling  flow. 
Greece  nurtured  in  her  glory9 s  time. 
And  the  complaining  brooks,  that  make  the  meadows 
green. 

The  tremour  heightens  the  expression,  even  of  opponent  passions, 
as  j  '  nd  sorrow.  It  may  be  occasionally  introduced  with  great 
effect,  v-oth  in  song  and  speech,  as  well  as  in  instrumental  music. 

M 


178 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


FOURTEENTH    EXERCISE. 

TIME    AND   GESTURE. 

A  rhythmical  ear  is  essential  to  the  public  speaker  who  would 
gesticulate  with  gracefulness,  precision  and  effect.  The  subject  of 
time,  therefore,  should  claim  his  particular  attention.  Those  who 
have  not  a  rhythmical  ear,  may  acquire  one,  by  practising  faithfully 
the  following  progressive  Exercises : 

1.  Raise  the  arms,  with  the  hands  clinched,  to  the  position  ele- 
vated forwards  (Beef} ,  and  then  bring  them  down,  with  great  force, 
to  the  position  downwards  forwards  (Bcdf^on  the  energetic  utter- 
ance of  each  of  the  elements  of  speech. 

2.  Clinch  the  hands,  then  retract  one  arm,  and  project  the  other, 
alternately,  horizontal  forwards,  on  each  of  the  elements. 

3.  Clinch  the  hands,  and  make  a  beat,  horizontal  forwards,  on 
the  first  element ;  strike  the  palms  of  the  hands  together  on  the 
second;  with  the  hands  clinched,  make  a  beat  horizontal  forwards 
on  the  third ;  strike  the  palms  of  the  hands  together  on  the  fourth ; 
and  so  on. 

4.  Beat  time  on  the  elements  with  the  dumb-bells.     Make  the 
first  beat  by  bringing  the  bells  in  contact,  horizontal  forwards ;  the 
second,  by  bringing  them  in  contact  elevated  forwards  ;  the  third, 
by  bringing  them  in  contact  downwards  forwards ;  the  fourth,  by 
bringing  them  in  contact  downwards  backwards,  thus :  — 

Diag.  40. 

METHOD   OF  BEATING   TIME   WITH  THE   DUMB-BELLS.* 


*  Dumb-bells  are  commonly  made  of  lead.  Those 
used  in  the  author's  Vocal  Gymnasium  are  turned 
out  of  lignum  vitce.  They  are  one  foot  long,  and 
four  inches  in  diameter.  (See  the  cuts  in  the 
margin.) 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  179 

.  6.  Mark  the  time  by  inarching.  The  class  should  march,  in  file, 
on  a  line,  in  the  form  of  the  figure  eight  (8),  and  pronounce,  after 
the  teacher,  an  element  at  every  step.  Should  the  class  be  large, 
two  columns  may  be  formed,  which  should  march  in  opposite  direc- 
tions. Meanwhile,  two,  or  more  tmpils,  standing  oat  from  the  class, 
may  keep  time  with  the  dumb-bells. 

SYLLABLE    RHYTHM. 

6.  When  the  pupil  cannot  mark  the  rhythm  of  poetry,  he  should 
first  beat  time  on  every  syllable,  in  either,  or  in  all,  of  the  ways 
which  have  been  described. 

|    |  I  r»  |  am  r-  I  mon-  <~  |  arch  p.  |  of  r-  I  all  r*  j  I  r-    I 
sur-  r*    |  vey  r-  |  my  r*   |  right  r*    |  there  r*   |  is  r»  I 
noner-   |  to  r»  |  dis-  «*  |  pute  r»  |  fromn*    |  the  r-  | 
cen-  c*  |  tre  r*  |  all  r»  |  round  r-  |  to  r-  \  the  r-  |  sea  r-  | 
I  r-  |  am  r-  j  lord  p.  |  of  r-  |  the  r-  |  fowl  r*  |  and  r»  | 
the  r*     brute  r~     &c. 


,  POETRY  .RHYTHM. 

7.  The  rhythm  of  poetry  should  be  marked  by  a  beat  on  the  ac- 
cented part  of  the  measure,  which,  in  the  following  examples,  is  the 
first  syllable  after  each  vertical  bar. 

Lines  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  Alexander  Sel- 
kirk, during  his  solitary  abode  on  the  Island  of  Juan 
Fernandez. 

(COWPER.) 

I  am  |  monarch  of  |  all  I  sur-  |  veys 

My  |  right  there  is  |  none  to  dis-  |  pute*  ; 

From  the  |  centre  all  |  round  to  the  |  sea', 
I  am  |  lord  of  the  |  fowl  and  the  |  brute  . 

0  |  solitude!  |  where  are  the  |  charms 
That  |  sages  have  |  seen  in  thy  |  face*? 

Better  |  dwell  in  the  |  midst  of  a-  |  larms1, 
Than  |  reign  in  this  |  liorniblc  |  place'. 

1  nm  |  out  of  hu-  |  inanity's  |  rcaclr; 

I  must  |  finish  my  j  journey  a-  J  lone*  ; 
Never  |  hear  the  sweet  |  music  ot  |  speech', 
I  start  at  the  |  sound  of  my  |  own,. 


180  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

The  |  beasts  that  roam  |  over  the  |  plain',     * 
My  |  form  with  in-  j  dirferencel  see*: 

They  are  |  so  unac-  |  quainted  with  |  man', 
Their  |  tameness  is  |  shocking  to  |  me%. 

So-  |  ciety,  |  friendship,  and  |  love*, 

Di-  |  ym*ely  be-  |  stow'd  upon  |  mm, 
O  I  had  I  the  |  wings  of  a  |  aove', 

How  |  soon  would  I'j  taste  you  a-  |  gainj 
My  |  sorrows  I  |  then  might  as-  |  suage 

In  the  |  ways  of  re-  |  ligion  and  |  truth* ; 
Might  |  learn  from  the  |  wisdom  of  (.age*, 

And  be  |  cheer'd  by  the  |  sallies  of  |  youth, 

Re-  |  Irgion!  what  |  treasure  un-  |  told',    -  * 
Re-  I  sides  in  that  I  heavenly  I  wordv  I 

• '  *    .  " 


More  |  precious  than  |  silver  or  |  gold', 
Or  |  all  that  this  |  earth  can  at-  |  ford%. 

But  the  |  sound  of  the  |  church-going  I  bell', 
These  |  valleys  and  |  rocks,  never  |  neard*; 

Ne'er  |  sigh'd  at  the  |  sound  of  a  |  knell', 
Or  |  smil'd  when  a  |  sabbath  ap-  |  pear'd%. 

Ye  |  winds  that  have  |  made  n%*  your  |  sport', 

Con-  |  vey  to  this  I  desolate  |  shore/, 
Some  |  cordial  en-  |  clearing  re-  |  port', 

Of  a  |  land  I  shall  |  visit  no  |  more%. 
My  |  friends*  —  do  they  |  now  and  then  |  send 

A  |  wish  or  a  |  thought  after  |  me'? 
O  |  tell  me  I  |  yet  have*  a  |  friend, 

Though  a  |  friend  I  am  |  never  to  |  seer 

How  |  fleet  is  a  |  glance  of  the  |  mind*  1 

Com  |  par'd  with  the  |  speed  of  its  |  flight', 
The  |  tempest  it-  |  self  lags  be-  |  hind', 

And  the  |  swift-winged  |  arrows  of  |  light. 
When  I  |  think  of  my  |  own  native  |  land', 

In  a  1  moment  I  |  seem  to  be  |  there*; 
But,  a-  I  las !  rccol-  |  lection  at  |  hand', 

Soon  |  hurries  me  |  back  to  de-  |  spair . 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  181 

But  the  |  sea-fowl  is  I  gone  to  her  |  nest*; 

The  I    beast  is  laid  (down  in  his  |  lain ; 
Even  I  here  is  a  |  season  of  |  rest', 

Ana  |  I  to  my  |  cabin  re-  |  pair%. 
There's  |  mercy,  in  I  every  |  place; 

And  |  mercy  en-  [  couraging  |  thought1 1 
Gives  |  even  af-  |  fliction  a  |  grace*,. 

And  |  reconciles  |  man  to  his  |  lot,. 

THE  ROSE. 

(OOWPBK.) 

The  |  rose  had  been  |  washes  jus*  |  washVf  in  a  |  shower, 

Which  I  Mary  to  I  Anna  con-  |  vey 9d* ; 
The  |  plentiful  |  moisture  en- !  cumberW  the  |  floWer, 

And  |  weighV/  down  |  its  beautiful  |  hea/^. 

The  1  cup  was  all  I  fillW,  and  the  I  leaves  were  all  |  weA; 

And  it  I  seemV,  to  a"|  fanciful  |  view, 
To  i  weep  for  the  |  buds  it  had  j  left  with  re- 1  gref, 

On  the  |  flourishing  |  bush  where  it  \  grew. 

1 1  hastily  I  seiz'd*  it,  un- 1  fit  as  it  |  was, 

For  a  I  nosegay,  so  j  dripping,  and  \  drownW*, 

And  |  swinging  it  |  rudely,  too  T  rudely,  a- 1  las  1 
1 1  snapp'd*  it  —  it  |  fell  to  the  |  groun<f%. 

And  |  such,  I  ex-  |  claimV,  is  the  I  pitiless  |  part', 

Some,  1  ac£  by  the  I  delicate  |  mind\ 
Re- !  gardless  of  |  wringing,  and  \  breaking  a  |  heart', 

Al- 1  ready  to  I  sorrow  re- 1  signV%. 

This  |  elegant  1  rose,  had  1 1  shaken  it  |  less, 

Mighi  have  I  bloom 'd  with  its  |  ow'ner  a-  |  while ; 

And  the  I  tear,  that  is  |  wipVZ  with  a  |  little  ad- 1  dress', 
May  be  |  follow'^ t  per- 1  haps,  by  a  j  smile%. 

R  Accompany  the  pronunciation  of  the  elements  with  gesture. 
In  the  following  series  of  figures,  there  are  two  periods  of  gesture. 
The  first  gesture  should  be  made  during  the  pronunciation  of  the 
four  sounds  of  a  ;  the  second,  during  the  pronunciation  of  the  two 
sounds  of  c;  and  so  on.  The  whole  of  the  SECOND  EXERCISE  (p. 
168),  should  be  practised  in  this  way.  The  stroke  of  the  gesture 
should  be  made  on  the  last  element  in  each  group. 
10 


183  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION, 

ruuerr  PERIOD.* 


96 


&,&,&,&; 


f— pkx 

4,6; 

JH 


100 
r— Jl 

1,1; 


*  These  two  periods  of  gesture  are  intended  as  examples;  others 
may  be  supplied  by  the  teacher,  as  occasion  shall  require.  Every 
variety  of  action  should  be  practised,  in  .connexion  with  the  ele- 
mentary exercises  of  the  voice;  and  the  pupil  should  be  careful  to 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION.  183 

BlBuONl>   PERIOD. 


rLlr 


mark  the  stroke  of  the  gesture  with  precision.  These  exercises 
are  introductory  to  declamation.  They  should  be  practised  in  the 
most  energetic  manner,  and  be  persevered  in  till  the  muscles  of  the 
trunk  and  limbs  act  harmoniously  with  those  of  the  voice. 


184  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

'FIFTEENTH   EXERCISE. 

PRONUNCIATION. 

The  article  a  should  have  the  sound  of  a  in  an,  thus  —  He  was 
A.  man;  not  &  man.  When,  however,  this  article  is  emphatic 
(which  is  seldom  the  case),  it  should  have  the  sound  of  a  in  ale, 
thus  —  Did  you  say  a  man,  or  the  man  1 

When  the  article  the  precedes  a  word  beginning  with  a  vowel,  it 
should  be  pronounced  the ;  when  it  precedes  a  word  beginning  with 
a  consonant,  it  should  be  pronounced  the,  thus — The  arts  and  th6 
sciences.  But,  when  the  precedes  a  word  beginning  with  a  conso- 
nant, and  is  emphatic,  it  should  be  pronounced  the,  thus  —  Did  you 
say  a  man  or  the  man  T 

The  pronoun  my,  when  emphatic,  is  pronounced  mi ;  when  not 
emphatic,  it  is  generally  pronounced  me.    Sometimes  the  perspi- 
cuity of  a  sentence  requires  mv  to  be  pronounced  ml,  when  this      , 
pronoun  is  not  emphatic,  as  in  the  following  example :  / 

"  And  the  pale  stars  shall  be  at  night,  f 

The  only  eyes  that  watch  my  rite." 

Should  my,  in  the  above  example,  be  pronounced  me,  by  a  public 
speaker,  the  auditors  might  suppose  the  meaning  of  the  passage  to 
be  as  follows : 

And  the  pale  stars  shall  be  at  night, 
The  only  eyes  that  watch  me  right. 

Euphony  sometimes  requires  my,  when  not  emphatic,  to  be  pro- 
nounced mi.  The  following  passages  are  example** 

"  My  brave  associates."  "  Hear  me  for  my  cause."  **  When  it 
shall  please  my  country  to  need  my  death." 

Mine  should  always  be  pronounced  mine,  not  mean;  by  should 
always  be  pronounced  bl,  not  bee  ;  to  should  be  pronounced  t6,  not 
tu ;  of  should  be  pronounced  6v,  not  uv ;  and  from  should  be  pro- 
nounced fr6m,  not  frum. 

The  pronunciation  of  many  other  words,  liable  to  be  pronounced 
wrong,  is  given  in  the  foot-notes  under  the  EXERCISES  IN  READING 
AND  DECLAMATION. 

SIXTEENTH    EXERCISE. 

DECLAMATION. 

Before  the  student  attempts  to  declaim,  he  should  learn  to  stand 
erect ;  to  hold  his  book  in  a  proper  manner,  and  to  read  correctly. 
He  should  then  select  some  short  piece,  and  learn  a  set  of  gestures 
for  its  illustration  by  practising  them  in  pantomime,  after  the 
teacher.  Lastly,  he  should  learn  to  combine  the  words  and  ges- 
tures, by  repeating  them  together,  after  the  teacher. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  186 

;OD    OF   TEACHING    DECLAMATION. (ZJiOg'.  41.) 


SPEECH   OF   SATAN    TO    HIS    LEGIONS. 


16 


v«l—  pki 

Princes, 


Bnu, 

potentates, 


186 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION* 


Btdq 

\varriors, 


Bvtq  — 

the  flower  of  heaven,,  ] 
/.:  *once  yours,  | 


i 


vdq  —  vde 

now  lost, 
m 


if  such  astonishment 


ns  this 

Kl 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION 


187 


can  seize 


eternal  spirits:  | 


or  have  yc  chosen  this 
place,  after  the  toil  of 
battle,| 


to  rejK)se  your  weary 

virtue, I  for  the  case  you 
find  to  slumber  here,  I 


188 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION 


Vdc  —  vdq 

as  in  the  vales  of  heaven 1       Or  in  this  abject  posture 


vcq-phx 

have  you  sworn  to  adore 

L2 

the  Conqueror?  | 


B  veq 

who  now  beholds  cherub 
and  seraph  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


189 


scattered  arms  and  en-        from  heaven    gates, 
signs,  |  till    anon,    his       j  *l 

swift  pursuers,  | 


190 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION 


Bveq 

discern  the  advantage, 

R3 

and  descending,  | 


Btdq 

tread  us  down,  thus 
drooping,  | 


\ 


eef  —  cdx 

or,  with  linked  thunder- 
bolts, I 


—  cdb 

transfix  us  to  the  bot- 
tom of  this  gulf,  j 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION.  191 


Awake,  | 


\ 


Btdq 

or  be  for  ever 


192 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION, 


THE    MISER    AND   PLUTUS. 


R       Brkfr f 

The  wind  was  high  —  |  the  window  shakes';  | 


with  sudden  start  the 

Ms 

miser  wakes !  I 


pile  ad- 


%  AUng  the  silent  ream 


he  stalks ;  | 

•M 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


193 


B  vkx-rkqc 

Looks  back,  | 


Bvkftr 

and  trembles  as 

»Rlx 

he  walks!  I 


Each  lock,  |  and  ev'ry 


bolt  he  tries,  I 
•M 

17 


and  corner,  pries  ;  j 

aff2 


194 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


144 


145 


B,eq 


Then  opes  his  chest,  |        And  stands  in  rapture      / 
with  treasure  stor'd,  |  o'er  his  hoard :  | 


146 


But  now  with  sudden          He  wrings  his  hands ;  | 


Bvhfc 

qualms  possest, 

rR\ 


Idbr 


he  beats  his  breast  —  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


105 


By  conscience  stung,  | 
lie  wildly  stares ;  | 


Btkfik 

And  thus  his  guilty 
soul  declares :  I 


Btdfd- 


Had  thfc  deep  earth 


This  heart  had  known 
m 


her  stores  confin'd,  |          sweet  peace  of  mind;  | 


196 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


153 


But  virtue's  seldl  I 


g»ds !- 1  what  pri 

•JB 


rice 


Can  recompense  the 


Btdfd  — 

O  bane  of  good  1  I 

rRl 


F—R 

pangs  of  vice  ? 


seducing  cheat  1 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


197 


i 
Can  man,  |  weak  man,  |        thy  power  deieat  (  | 


158 

teb  no  —  tdq 

Gold  banishM  honour 

rLl 


from  the  mind,  | 
17* 


And  only  left  the 


br  —  R 

name  behind ;  | 


108 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


160 

Gold  sow'd  the 


world  with  ev'ry  ill ;  | 


Gold  taught  the 


cebtk  —  edq 

murderer's  sword  to  kill  :  j 

Liz 


/ 


162  1G3 

'T  was  gold  instructed         In  treach'ry's  more 
coward  hearts  |  pernicious  arts.  1 

rRl 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


109 


Who  can  recount 

a 

»eq  —  tdq 

the  mischiefs  o'er?  | 


Virtue  resides  on 


Bpjfd 

earth  no  more !  | 


EXPLANATION 


OF  THE  CHARACTERS  USED    IN    THE    EXERCISES    IN    READING 
AND    DECLAMATION. 


(  |  )  A  vertical  bar,  employed  to  divide  each  paragraph  into  sec- 
tions of  a  convenient  length  for  concert  reading.  [See  tlic  PRE- 
FACE.] 

d)  A  separation  mark.  It  signifies  that  the  words  between 
which  it  is  placed,  should  not  coalesce. 

(M)  A  rest.  Where  this  character  is  employed  there  should  be 
a  slight  suspension  of  the  voice. 

(-)  A  hold.  The  vowels  over  which  this  character  is  placed, 
should  have  an  unusual  prolongation. 

(o)' A  pause,  called  also  a  suspending  pause.  When  placed  over 
a  rest,  it  signifies  that  this  rest  should  have  two  or  three  times'  its 
usual  length.  It  is  called  a  suspending  pause,  because  it  keeps 
the  mind  of  the  hearer  in  suspense.  [See  an  example  on  page  221, 
seventh  line  from  the  bottom.]  • 

(/x  /»  "  '  )  Acute  ntid  grave  accents.  They  are  employed  to 
represent  the  rining  and  fulling  inflections,  and  also  the  emphasis 
melodies.  [See  page  48  and  54.] 

(*)  Acuto-grave  accent, or  acuto-grave  circumflex.    [Sec  p.  48.] 

(")  Gravo-acute  accent,  or  gravo-acute  circumflex.    [Sec  p.  48. J 

(tr)  Irony.  The  passage  to  which  these  letters  arc  prefixed,  is 
ironical. 

(r;>)  Reproach.  When  those  letters  nrc  prefixed  to  a  passage, 
it  contains  the  language  of  reproach. 

(wh)  Whisper.  The  passage  to  which  these  letters  nrc  prefixed, 
should  be  whimpered. 

(1,  2,  3,  4)  These  numbers  represent  the  degrees  of  modulation. 
[See  p.  57.] 

The  italic  letters  represent  sounds  which  arc  liable  to  be  omitted, 
or  imperfectly  articulated.  When  all  the  letters  in  a  word  arc 
italic,  the  word  is  emphatic.  The  emphatic  words,  however,  are 
seldom,  in  this  work,  marked  by  italic  letters. 

In  designating  the  pronunciation  of  words,  in  the  foot-notes,  I 
have  used  the  letters  which,  on  page  19,  and  20,  represent  the  ele- 
ments of  the  English  language.  No  superfluous  letters  arc  em- 
ployed, as  is  done  by  lexicographers.  The  pronunciation  of  each 
word  is  determjned  by  the  letters  which  represent  the  sounds  of 
which  it  is  composed,  and  by  the  situation  of  the  accent. 

(«*) 


PART   II. 

"      •  *  • 

EXERCISES  IN  READING  AND  DECLA 
MATION. 


SPEECH  OF   SATAN    TO   HIS    LEGIONS. 

(MILTON.) 
Narrative, 

He  scarce  had  ceas'd,  |  when  the  superior  fiend  I 

Was  moving  tow'rd  the  shore* ;  |  his  ponderous  shield,  I 

Etherial  temper,  mas'sy,  large',  and  round',  \ 

Behind  him  cas*v ;  I  the  broad  circumference*  | 

Hung  on  his  shoulders  liAc  the  moon*  |  \vhosc  orb 

Through  optic  glass  I  the  Tuscan  artist  views 

At  evening  |  from  the  top  of  Fes'o-le,  I 

Or  in  Valdarno,cl  to  descry  new  lands',  | 

Riv'ers,  or  mount*ains,d|in  Aer  spotty  globet.  1 

His  spear'  I  (to  equal  which  |  the  tallest  pine, I 

ITcvvn  on  Norwegian  hills,  I  to  be  the  mas* 

Of  some  grca*  amiral,Bjwere  but  a  wand')  | 

He  walk'd*  with,  |  to  support  uneasy  steps  | 

Over  the  burning  marL,  |  (no*  like  those  steps 

On  heaven's  a'zure  !f)  |  and  the  torrid  clime  | 

Smote  on  Aim  sore  besides*,  j  vaulted  with  firet :  | 

Nathless*  he  so  endur'd,  |  till  on  the  beach 

Of  tha*  inflamed  sea  he  stood,  I  and  call'd 

His  le'gions,  |  angel-forms  |  who  lay  entranced  | 

•  Ser-kftn/ffc-rens.  fc  Gallilco.  He  was  born  at  Florence,  the 
capital  of  Tuscany,  in  Italy.  «  Valdarno,  Vdllc'di  Arno  (Italian), 
the  vale  of  the  Arno,  a  delightful  valley  in  Tuscany.  a  Moun'tlnz. 
•  Am'i-ral  (French),  admiral  '  A'iur.  *  N&UY16s. 

(201) 


202  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Thicfc  as  autumnal11  leaves  j  that  strow  the  brooks 
In  Vallombro'sab  j  where  the  Etrurian  shades,  | 
High  over-arch'd,  imbow'n  ;  j  x>r  scatter'd  sedge, 
Afloat,  |  when  with  fierce  winds,  I  Orion,"  arm'd,  | 
Hath  vex'd  the  Red-Sea  coast  |  whose  waves  overthrew 
Busiris,d|and  Ais  Memplu'an6  chiv'alry/  j 
While  with  perfidious*  hatred  |  they  pursu'd 
The  sojournersh  of  Go*  shen,  I  who  beheld 
From  the  safe  shore,  I  their  floating  carcasses,  | 
And  broken  chariot  wheels  :  |  so  tnicfc  bestrown,  | 
Abject,  and  lost,  |  lay  these,,  |  covering  the  flood,  | 
Under  amazement'1  of  their  hideousj  change^.  | 
He  call'd  so  loud,  I  that  all  the  hollow  deeo 
Ofhellresound,ed/| 

Speech 

^Priaces,  |  po'tehta^s,  |. 

Warxriors,kl  the  flow'r  of  heaven,!  onceyoufss  InowlosA,  1 
If  such  astonishment1  as  this'  |  can  seize.  |.    • 
Eternal™  spinits  :  |  tV  or  have  ye  chosen  this  place,  | 
After  the  toil  of  battle,  |  to  repose 
Your  wearied  virtue,  |  for  the  ease  you  find 
To  slunvber  here,  |  as  in  the  vales  of  heaven  ?  | 
°Or,  in  this  abject  posture,  |  have  ye  sworn 
To  adore  the  Conqx'ror  ?  |  who  now  beholds0 
Cherufr,  and  seraph,  |  rolling  in  the  flood  | 
With  scattered  arms,  and  enxsigns  ;  |  till  anon  | 
His  swift  pursuers,  |  from  heaven-gates  |  discern0 
The  advantage,  j  and  descending,  I  tread  us  downs  | 
Thus  droopang  ;  I  or,  with  linked  thunderbolts,  j 
Transfix*  us  |  to  the  bottom  of  this  gulf.  | 
//7AwaAex  1  1  arise'  !  |  or  be  for  ev»er  fallen,  1  1 


b  Vallombrosa  (ydlle,  a  vale;  ombrdso,  shady),  a 
shady  valley  in  the  Apennines,  fifteen  miles  east  of  Florence. 
•  Orl'on,  a  constellation,  in  the  southern  hemisphere.  d  Busi'ris, 
Pharaoh.  •  Memphian,  from  Memphis,  ancient  capital  of  Egypt 
'  Tshlv'al-rfc.  »P6r-nd'yfis.  *  SA'd4urn-6r4.  »  A-mii'mtnt  »Hld'- 
e-&8.  kWAr'yiri.  >  As-t6n'l8h-ment. 
not  burholds.  °  Dlz-z6rn'. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  203 

OSSIAN'S    ADDRESS    TO    THE    SUN. 

O  thou  thai  rollesi  above,  I  round  as  the  shield  of  my 
fathers  !  |  Whence  are  thy  beams',  O  sun',  I  thy  ever- 
lasting HghA  ?  |  Thou  comesi  forth  in  thy  awful  beauvty;  | 
the  stars  hide  themselves  in  the  skyx;  \  the  moon,  cold, 
and  pale',  |  sinks  in  the  western  wave*.  |  Bui  thou  thy- 
self movesi  alone* :  |  who  can  be  a  companion  of  thy 
coursex?  | 

The  oaks  of  the  mountains  a  falb ;  I  the  mountains 
themselves' ,  decay  with  years* ;  |  the  ocean  shrinks, 
and  growsx  again ;  |  the  moon  herself,6  is  lost  in  heaven ;  j 
but  thou  ari  for  ever  the  samev,  I  rejoicing  in  the  bright- 
ness of  thy  course*.  I 

1When  the  world  is  dar&  with  tempests',  |  2when 
thunder  rolls,  and  lightning  flies',  1 3thou  lookesi  in  thy 
beauty  from  the  clouds',  1 4and  laugh  esi  at  the  storiru  | 
2Bui,  to  Ossian,  thou  lookesi  in  vainx ;  |  for  he  beholds 
thy  beams0  no  more*,d  |  whether  thy  yellow  hairs  |  flow 
on  the  eastern  clouds',  |  or  thou  tremblesi  at  the  gates 
of  the  wesix.  | 

Bui  thou  ari  perhaps  like  me'  —  I  for  a  season :  | 
thy  years  will  have  an  end..  I  Thou  shali  sleep  in  the 
clouds',  |  careless  of  the  voice  of  the  morning.  |  4Ex- 
ult\  then,  O  sun',  |  in  the  strength  of  thy  youthv !  I1  Age, 
is  dar/c,  and  unlovely:  |  2it  is  like  the  glimmering  lighi 
of  the  moon',  |  when  ,  it  shines  through  broken  clouds';  | 
and  the  misi  is  on  the  hills*,  I  the  blasi  of  the  north  is 
on  the  plain',  |  the  traveller  shrinks  in  the  midsi  of  7iis 
jourvney.  | 

TELL'S  ADDRESS  TO  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

(KNOWLES.) 

7/Ye  crags,  and  peaks',6  |  I'm  with  you  once  again*  ;f  j 
I  hold  to  you  the  hands  you  firsi'  beheldi,  | 

»  Moun'tlnz.  b  Moon  herself,  not  moo'-ner-self.  c  He ,  beholds 
thy  beams;  not  He'be  holds  thy  beams.  d  Ossian  was  blind. 
*  Crags  and  peaks ;  not  cragz'n  peaks,  nor  crags  Ann  Peaks.  f  Ag£n'. 


204  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

To  show  they  still  area  free*.  |  Rethinks  Ib  hear 

A  spirit  in  your  echoes,  anWer  me,  | 

2 And  bid  your  tenant  welcome  to  his  homes 

Agairh  !c  |  O  sa\cred  forms,  |  how  proudv -t  you  looAd !  | 

How  high  you  lift  your  heads  into  the  sky' !  | 

How  huge. ,  you6  are !  |  how  mighty,  |  and  how  free, !  | 

Ye  are  the  things  thaUow'r— |tha£  shine^ —  |  whose  smile 

Makes  glad' —  |  whose  frown  is  terrible —  I  whose  forms 

Robed,  or  unxrobed,  |  do  all  the  impress  wear  | 

Of  awe  divinev.   |  Ye  guards  of  liberty,  | 

I  'm  with  you  once  again*  !c —  j-^I  call  to  you  | 

With  all  my  voice' !  —  1 1  hold  my  hands  to  you  I 

To  show  they  still  are  free*  —  1 1  rush  to  you  I 

As  though   I  could  embrace*  youf !  | 


BATTLE   OF    HOHENLINDEN. 

(CAMPBELL.) 

On  Linden,8  when  the  sun  was  low,  | 
All  bloodless  lay  the  untrodd'n  snow\,  | 
And  dar&  as  win'ter,  was  the  flow'  | 
Of  Iserh  rolling  rapidly.  | 

Bu£  Linden*   saw  another  sigh£,  | 
When  the  drum    bea£  at  dead  of  nighZv,  I 
Commanding  fires  of  death*  ( to  light'  \ 
The  darkness   of  her  scenery1.  | 

By  torch,  and  trumpet   fas*  array 'd',  \ 
Each  horsemank  drew  his  batvtle  blade ;  | 
And  furious   every  charger   neigh'd',  | 
To  join  the  dreadful  revelry.  | 

a  Still  ,  are;  not  stillar.  b  Methinks  ,  I;  not  me-think'si. 
«  Ag&n.  d  Proud  ,  you  look  ;  not  prow'jew-look.  «  Huge  ,  you 
are  ;  not  hew'jew-are.  t  Embrace  you  ;  not  embra'shew.  *  Lin' 
d&n  ;  not  Lindun.  b  E'sftr.  *  S^n'fer-^;  not  sce'nury.  J  Trfimp'it. 
k  H^rs'mcin ;  not  hosmun. 

« 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  205 

Then  shook  the  hills    with  thunder  riv'n ;  | 
Then  rush'd  the  steed  to  bat'tfe  driv'n ;  | 
And  louder  than  the  boks  of  heaven,  | 
Far  flash'd  the  red  artiMerya.  I 

And  redder  yer  those  fires  shall  glow  | 
On  Linden'sb  hills  of  blood-stain'd  snowv ;  | 
And  darker  yet,   shall  be  the  flow  I 
Of  Iser   rolling  rapxidly.  | 

'Tis  mornx,  —  |  but  scarce  yon  lurid  sun'(  I 
Can  pierce  the  war-clouds,  rolling  dum,  | 
Where  furious  Fran/c,  and  fiery  Hun'  | 
Shout   in  their  sulph'rous  canvopy.  I 

The  combat  deepens  —  I  ffOn,  ye  braves  ' 
Who  rush  to  glory,  or  the  grave* !  1 
fffW&ve,  Munich,d  |  all  thy  banners  ,  wave' !  j 
And  charge   with  all  thy  chivvalrye !  | 

mpFew,  few  shall  part  where  many   mee^ !  | 
The  snow    shall  be  their  windxing-sheeZ,  | 
And  every  turf  beneathf  their  fee*',  | 
Shall  be  M  a  soldier's  sepulchre.  I 

SPEECH   OF    ROLLA    TO    THE    PERUVIAN    ARMY. 

[From  Kotzebue's  Pizarro.] 
(R.    B.    SHERIDAN.) 

My  brave  associates !  I  partners  of  my  toil',  |  my 
feel'ings,  |  and  my  famev !  |  Can  RollaV  words  add 
vigour  |  to  the  virtuous*1  energies1 1  which  inspire  your 
hearts'  ?  I  Not !  |  you  have  judged  as  L  have,  |  the 
foulness  of  the  crafty  plea7  |  by  which  these  bold  in- 
vaders would  deludev  you.  I  Your  generous  spirit  |  has 
compared  as  minex  has,  |  the  motives  |  which,  in  a 
war  ,  li^e  this',  |  can  animate  their  minds,  and  oursv.j  | 


«  Artll'l&r-re.  b  Lln'd^n;  not  Lindun.  c  Kam'b^t.  <i  Mi'nlk. 
e  Tshlv'al-r£.  f  Be-n^TH7.  e  R61'liii  ;  not  Rolluz.  »»  Vfer'tshu- 
fts.  >  En'fer-dzei.  J  And  ours ;  not  Ann  Dowerg. 

18 


* 


206  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

They,  by  a  strange  frenzy  driven,  |  fighZ  for  pc  vvxer, ' 
for  plun'der,  |  and  extended  ruta  —  |  We,  for  our  coun- 
try, |  our  al'tars,  |  and  our  homesx.  |  They  follow  an 
adventurer  |  whom  they  fean,  |  and  obey  a  power  ) 
which  they  hate\.  I  We  serve  a  monarcA3 1  whom  we 
lovev  —  |  a  God  |  whom  we  adore, !  \ 

Whene'er  they  move  in  an;ger,b  |  desolation  traces 
their  progress ;  |  where'er  they  pause  in  am'ity,c  |  af- 
fliction mourns  their  friendship.  |  They  boast —  |  they 
come  but  to  improve  our  state',  |  enlarge  our  thoughts',  j 
and  free  us  from  the  yoke  of  er.ror !  |  Yes'd  —  I  they 
will  give  enlightened  freedom  to  our  minds,  |  who  are 
themselves*  ]  the  slaves  of  passion,  |  av'arice,  |  and 
pride^.  | 

They  offer  us  their  protection.  I  Yesvd  —  I  such  pro- 
tection j  as  vultures  give  to  lambs',  —  |  covering,  and 
devouring  them !  |  They  call  on  us  |  to  barter  all  of 
good  |  we  have  inherited,  and  proved*,  |  for  the  despe- 
rate chance  of  something  bet\ter  |  which  they  prom  - 
ise.  | 

Be  our  plain  answer6  thisx :  |  The  throne  we  honour  | 
is  the  people's  choice  —  |  the  laws  we  reverence1"  |  are 
our  brave  fathers'  legacy —  |  the  faith  we  follow  ] 
teaches  us  |  to  live  in  bonds  of  charity  with  all  man- 
kindv,  |  and  die  with  hopes  of  bliss  |  beyond  the  gravev.  j 
Tell  your  invaders  this' ;  |  and  tell  them  too',  |  we  seeA: 
nox  change  ;  |  and  least  of  all1,  |  such  change  as  theyv 
would  bring  us.  | 


(BYRON.) 

O  thaZ  the  desert  were  my  dwelFing-place,  [ 
With  one  fair  spirit  for  my  minister,  | 
Tha£  I  migh£  all  forged  the  human  race',  j 
And,  hating  no  one,  |  love  but  only  herx !  | 

»  M6n'n^rk ;  not  monnuck.  b  Move  in  anger ;  not  mo-vin-nang' 
grer.  <=  Pause  in  amity  ;  not  paw-zin-nam'ity.  d  Yis.  e  Plain  an- 
swer; not  plain-nan'swer.  f  RSv'^r-fens;  not  revurunce. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  207 

Ye  elements !  —  |  in  whose  ennobling  stir  j 
I  feel  myself  exalted —  |  can  ye  not  | 
Accord*  me  such  a  being  1  \   Do  I  err  i 
In  deeming  such  inhabit  ma*ny  a  spo£?  | 
Though  with  them  to  converse,  can  rarely  be  our  1 

There  is  a  pleasure*  in  the  pathless  woods , 
There  is  a  rap'ture  on  the  lonely  shore*,  J 
There  is  society,  where  none  intrudes     | 
By  the  deep  sea*,  |  and  music  in  its  roarx.  | 
I  love  not  man  the  less,  |  but  nature  more*,  | 
From  these,  our  interviews,  |  in  which   I  steal  | 
From  all  I  may  be,  |  or  have  been  before,,  | 
To  mingle  with  the  u'niverse,  |  and  feel  | 
Wha£  I  can  ne'er  express*,  j  jet  cannot  all  concealv.  ] 

Roll   on',a  |  thou  deep,  and  dar^-blue  ocean  —  |  roll* !  | 
Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain* ;  | 
Man  marks  the  earth'  with  ruin  —  |  his  control  | 
Stops  with  the  shore* ;  —  |  upon  the  watery  plain    | 
The  wrecks  are  all  thy'  deed,  |  nor  doth  remain  | 
-  A  shad*ow  of  man's  ravage,  |  save  Ais  own*,  | 
When,  for  a  moment,  |  like  a  drop  of  rain',  | 
He  sinks  into  thy  depths  with  bubbling  groan*,  | 
Without  a  grave*,|  unknell'd*,|  uncof  fin'd,|  and  unknown  .| 

His  steps  are  not  upon  thy  paths*,  —  |  thy  fields  | 
Are  not  a  spoil  for  Aim*,  —  j  thou  dostb  arise,  | 
And  shake  Aim  from'  thee ;  |  the  vile  strength  he  wields  J 
For  earth's  destruction,  |  thou  dost  all  despise*,  | 
Spurning  Aim  from  thy  bosom  to  the  skies',  | 
And  send'sZ  Aim,  | l shivering  in  thy  playful  spray,  | 
And  howling  to  Ais  gods',  |  2where  haply  lies  | 
His  petty  hope*,  |  in  some  near  port,  or  bay*,c  | 
Then  dashesZ  Aim  againd  to  earth' : —  |  there  let  Aim  layv.| 

»  Roll  on;  not  roll-Ion'.     b  D&st.     c  Port,  or  bay;   not  Porter 
Bay.     d  AgSn'. 


208  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

The  armaments  which  thunderstri&e  the  walls  | 
Of  rock-built  cit'ies,  |  bidding  nations  qua&e,  | 
And  monarchsa  tremble  in  their  capatals,  | 
The  oak  leviathans     whose  huge  ribs   ma/ce    | 
Their  clay-creator    the  vain  title  take     \ 
Of  lore?  of  thee',  |  and  arbiter  of  war ;  | 
These    are  thy  toys\,  |  and,  as  the  snowy  fla&e'.  | 
They  melt  into  thy  yestb  of  wavesv,  |  which  mar,  | 
Ali&e,  the  Armada's0  pride,  |  or  spoils  of  Trafalgar/  | 

Thy  shores  are  em'pires,  |  changed  in  all  save  theex —  | 
Assyraa,!  Greecex,|  Rome',|  Carthage,]  wha£  are  theyj  | 
Thy  waters  wasted  them  while  they  were  free',  | 
And  many  a  tyrant  sincev ;  |  their  shores  obey  | 
The  stranger,  slave',  or  savvage;  |  their  decay  | 
Has  dri'd  up  realms  to  desserts  : —    not  so  thou',  j 
Unchangeable,  |  save  to  thy  wild  waves'  playv  —  | 
Time  writes  no  wrinkle  on  thine  azure  brow*  —  | 
Such  as  creation's  dawn'  beheld,  |  thou  rollesZ  nowv.  | 

Thou  glorious  mir'ror,  |  lwhere  the  Almighty's  form  | 
Glasses  itself  in  tenrpesZs ;  |  2in  all*  time,  | 
Calm,  or  convuls'dx  —  |  in  breeze',  or  gale'1,  or  storm*,  | 
Icing  the  pole',  |  or  in  the  torrid  clime,  | 
Dar/c-heavang;  |  boundless,  |end'less,  |and  sublime\ — | 
The  image  of  eternity —  |  lthe  throne  j 
Of  the  Invisible;  |  2e'en    from  out  thy  slime*    | 
The  monsters  of  the  deep    are  madev ;  |  each  zone  | 
Obeys^  thee ;  I  thou  goesZ  forth,ldread',l  fath'omless,  lalone^l 

spAnd  I  7mve  lov'd'  thee,  o'cean !  |  and  my  joy  | 
Of  youthful  sports,  j  was  on  thy  breast  to  be  j 
Borne,  li&e  thy  bubbles,  onvward :  |  from  a  boy'  | 
I  wanton'd  with  thy  breakers :  |  they  to  me,  | 
Were  a  delight ;  |  and,  if  the  freshening  sea  | 
Made  them  a  terror  —  |  't  was  a  pleading  fear,  | 
For  I  was   as  iZ  were    a  child'  of  thee,  | 
And  trusted  to  thy  billows,  far,  and  near,  | 
And  Jaid  my  hand  upon  thy  mane' —  |  as  I  do  herex.  | 

aM6n'narks;notmon'nucks. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  209 

APOSTROPHE  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  FRANCE. 

(BURKE.) 

It  is  now  sixteen,  or  seventeen  years*,  |  since  I  saw 
the  queen  of  France,  |  then  the  daiiphiness,  |  ai  Ver- 
sailles' ;  |  and  surely,  never  lighted  on  this  orb,  |  (which 
she  hardly  seemed  to  touch)  |  a  more  delightful  vis  Jon.  | 
J  saw  her  jusi  above  the  horrzon,  decorating,  and 
cheering  the  elevated  sphere  |  she  jusi  began  to  move* 
in  —  |  glittering  like  the  morning  star' —  |  full  of  life',  | 
and  splen'dour,  |  and  joyx.  |  lOh  whai  a  revolution !  | 
and  whai  a  heari  musi  I  have,  ]  to  contemplate  without 
emotion,  |  thai  elevation,  |  and  thai  fallx !  | 

2Little  did  I  dreamy  when  she  added  titles  of  vene- 
ration |  to  those  of  enthusiastic,  distant,  respectful  love,  | 
that  she  should  ever  be  obliged  |  to  carry  the  sharp  an- 
tidote againsi  disgrace',  |  concealed  in  thai  bo\som  —  | 
little  did  I  dream  |  that  I  should  have  lived  |  to  see  such 
disasters  fallen  upon  her  \  in  a  nation  of  gallani  menx, — J 
in  a  nation  of  men  of  honour,  |  and  of  cavaliersv.  |  I 
thoughi  ten  thousand  swords  musi  have  leaped  from 
their  scabbards  |  to  avenge  even  a  look'  |  thai  threatened 
#er  with  insuli.  |  Bui  the  age  of  chivalry  is  gonev.  | 
That  of  soplristers,  |  economists,  |  and  calculators,  |  has 
succeeded;  |  and  the  glory  of  Europe  n  { is  extinguished 
for  evxer.  | 

Never,  never  more,  |  shall  we  behold  thai  generous 
loyalty  to  ran&  and  sexv, —  |  thai  proud  submission, —  | 
thai  dignified  obedience,  —  j  thai  subordination  of  the 
heari'  |  which  kept  alive,  |  even  in  servitude  itself,  |  the 
spirii  of  an  exalted  free*dom.  |  The  unboughi  grace  of 
lifev,  |  the  cheap  defence  of  nations,  |  the  nurse  of  manly 
sentimeni,  |  and  heroic  enterprise,  |  is  gone\ !  |  It  is 
gone, —  |  thai  sensibility  of  principle, —  |  thai  chastity 
of  hon'our,  |  which  feli  a  stain  Me  a  woundv, —  j  which 
inspired  courage  |  whilsi  ii  mitigated  fero'city, —  | 
which  enno'bled  whatever  ii  touched;  |  and  under 
which,  |  vice  itself  |  losi  half  its  evil,  |  by  losing  all  its 
grossxness.  |  o 

18* 


210  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

BATTLE  OF  WARSAW. 

(CAMPBELL.) 

O  sacred  Truth !  |  thy  triumph  ceas'dv  awhile,  J 
And  Hope,  thy  sister,  ceas'd  with  thee  to  smilev,  | 
When  leagued  Oppression  pour'd  to  northern  wars,  ] 
Her  whisker'd  pandours,a  and  her  fierce  hussarsx,b  | 
Wav'd  her  dread  standard  to  the  breeze  of  morn,  | 
Peal'd  her  loud  drum, |  and  twang'd  ^er  trumpet-horn  ;j 
Tumultuous  horror  brooded  o'er  her  van'  | 
Presaging  wrath  to  Poland,  and  to  man^ !  | 

Warsaw's  las*  champion,  from  ^er  height,  survey'd,  | 
Wide  o'er  the  fields,! a  waste  of  ru'in  laid —  | 
O  Heav'n !  he  cried,|my  bleeding  country,  save^ !  | 
Is  there  no  hand  on  high  to  shield  the  brave'  1  \ 
Wha*  though  destruction  ,  sweej9x  these  lovely  plains —  | 
Rise',  fellow-men !  |  our  country  ye*  remains^ !  | 
By  thai  dread  name,! we  wave  the  sword  on  high,  | 
And  swear  for  her  to  live  — |  with  her  to  die  !  |      « 

He  said  —  |  and  on  the  rampart-heights,  array'd    | 
His  trusty  war'riors,  |  few,  but  undismay'd^ ;  | 
Firm-paced,  and  slow,  |  a  horrid  front'  they  form ;  | 
Still  as  the  breeze^,  |  but  dreadful  as  the  stormv ;  | 
Low,  murmuring  sounds   along  their  banners  fly,  | 
Revenge7,  or  deathx,  |  the  watchword,  and  reply  x ;  | 
Then  peal'd  the  notes,  omnipotent  to  charnr,  | 
And  the  loud  tocsm   told  their  las*  alarrn .  j 

In  vain,  alas !  |  in  vain,  ye  gallan*  few !  | 
From  rank  to  ran/e,  your  volley'd  thun'der  flew :  j 
O  bloodies*  picture  in  the  boo/c  of  Timex !  | 
Sarma^tia  fell,  |  unwept,  |  withou*  a  crimev ;  | 
Found  no*  a  generous  friend^  |  a  pitying  foes  | 
Strength  in  her  arms,  |  nor  mercy  in  her  \\7ox ! 

a  Pandour  (French),  Hungarian  soldier.  b  Hfiz-z&r,  one  of  the 
Hungarian  horsemen,  so  called  from  the  shout  they  generally  make, 
at  the  first  onset. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  211 

Dropp'd  from  her  nerveless  grasp,  the  shatter'*/  spear,  . 
Clos'd  her  bright  eye,  |  and  curb'd  her  high  careerv :  | 
Hope,  for  a  season,  bade  the  world   farewell  —  | 
And  Freedom  shriek'd,  as  Koscius'ko  fellv !  | 

The  sun  went  down* ;  |  nor  ceas'd  the  carnage  there*,  j 
Tumultuous  murder   shook  the  midnight  ain :  | 
On  Prague's  proud  archa  |  the  fires  of  nrin  glow,  | 
His  blood-dy'd  waters    murmuring  far  below% :  | 
The  storm  prevails1,  |  the  rampart  yields  away1,  | 
Bursts  the  wild  cry  of  horror,  and  dismay* !  | 
HarA:x !  |  as  the  smouldering  piles  with  thunder  fall,  | 
A  thousand  shrieks  for  hopeless  mercy   call !  | 
Earth  shoo/c',  ]  red  meteors  flash'd  along  the  sky,  | 
And  conscious  Nature  shudder'd  at  the  cryv !  | 

Departed  spirits  of  the  mighty  dead' !  | 

Ye  thai  at  Marathon,  and  Leuc*tra  bled  /  | 

Friends  of  the  world'!  |  restore  your  swords  to  man*,  | 

Figh*  in  his  sacred  cause,  I  and  lead  the  van, !  | 

Ye£  for  Sarmatia's  tears  of  blood',  atone*,  | 

And  make  her  arm  puissant  as  your  own*,  | 

O  !  once  again  to  Freedom's  cause  returns  | 

Thou  patriot  Teir —  |  thou  Bruce  of  Banvnockburn !  j 


BATTLE   OP   WATERLOO. 

(BYRON.) 

There  was  a  sound  of  revxelry  by  nigh** ;  | 
And  Belgium's  capital     |  had  gather'd  then  | 
Her  beauty,  and  ^er  chiv\alry;  |  and  bright  | 
The  lamps  shone   o'er  fair  women,  and  brave  menx ; } 
A  thousand  hearts  beat  hap'pily ;  |  and,  when  j 
Music  arose,  with  its  voluptuous  swell,  | 
Soft  eyesb  look'd  love'  |  to  eyes  which  spa&e  again* ;  | 
And  all  vrejit  merry  as  a  mar'riage-bell  —  | 
'But  hushJ|har&*!|a  deep  sound  strikes  like  a  rising  knell'  !| 

*  Proud  arch ;  not  prow-darch'.    b  Soft  eyes ;  not  sof-ties. 


212  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Did  ye  not  hear  it?  —  |  Nov;| 'twas  but  the  wind*,  j 
Or  the  car'  rattling  o'er  the  stony  street  —  | 
On  with  the  dance' !  |  let  joy  be  unconfin'dx ;  | 
No  sleep  till  morn',  |  when  Youth,  and  Pleasure  meet  | 
To  chase  the  glowing  hours,  with  flying  fee^  —  | 
"But  hark' ! —  |  that  heavy  sound  breaks  in  once  morex,  | 
As  if  the  clouds  its  echo  would  repeal ;  | 
And  nearer,  |  clearer,  j  deadlier  than  before  !  | 
Arar  !  |  arm' !   it  isx —  |  it  isx  the  cannon's  opening  roar. !  | 

Within  a  window'd  niche  of  thaZ  high  hall,  | 
Sate  Brunswick's  fated  chieftain ;  |  he  did  hear  | 
That  sound  the  firs^,  amidst  the  festival,  | 
And  caught  its  tone  with  Death's  prophetic  ean;  | 
And,  when  they  smil'd,]  because  he  deem'd  it  near,  | 
His  heart  more  truly  knew  thai  peal  too  welb,  | 
Which  stretch'd  Ais  father  on  a  bloody  bier,  | 
And  rous'd  the  vengeance,  blood  alone  could  quell :  | 
He  rush'd  into  the  fields  |  and  foremost  fighting,  fellv.  j 

Ah!  then,  and  there   was    hurrying  to,  and  fro,  | 
And  gathering  tears,  |  and  tremblings  of  distress',  | 
And  cheeks  all  palex,  |  which  but  an  hour  ago,  j 
Blush'd  at  the  praise  of  their  own  loveJiness.  | 
And  there  were  sudden  parsings,  |  such  as  press  | 
The  life  from  out  young  hear£sv,  j  and  choking  sighsx  | 
Which  ne'er  might  be  repeated ;  |  who  could  guess  j 
If  ever  more  should  meet  those  mutual  eyes,  | 
Since  upon  nigh£  so  swee£  |  such  awful  morn  could  risej 

And  there  was  mounting  in  hot  hastev :  |  the  steed,  | 
The  mustering  squadron, land  the  clattering  car,  | 
Wen^  pouring  forward  with  impetuous  speedx,  | 
And  swiftly  forming  in  the  ranks  of  wan ;  | 
And  the  deep  thunder  peal  on  peal  afar1 !  j 
And  near  |  the  bea£  of  the  alarming  drum*  | 
Rous'd  up  the  soldier  ere  the  morning  star' ;  | 
While  throng'd  the  citizens  with  terror  dumbv,  j 
Or  whispering,  with  white  lips,—  [**" The  foe\'  |  They 
comex !  |  they  come' !" %  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  213 

1  And  wild  and  high  the  "  Cameron's  gathering"  rose^!  | 
2The  war-note  of  Lochiel',  |  which  Albyn's  hills  | 
Have  heardx,|  and  heard  too,  have  her  Saxon  foesx : —  ] 
How  in  the  noon  of  nighi  thai  pibroch  thrills,    | 
Savage,  and  shrill !  |  Bui  with  the  breath  which  fills[ 
Their  mountain-pipe,  |  so  fill  the  mountaineers',  | 
With  the  fierce  native  daring    |  which  instils     | 
The  stirring  memory  of  a  thousand  years. ;  | 
And  Evxan's,|Don'ald's  fame,  |  rings  in  each  clansman's 
earsv !  | 

And  Ardennes  waves  above  them  Aer  green  leaves',  | 
Dewy  with  nature's  tear-drops,  |  as  they  passv,  | 
Grieving,  if  aughi  inanimate  e'er  grieves,  | 
O'er  the  unreturning  bravev,  —  )  alas  !  | 
Ere  evening    to  be  trodden  like  the  grass* ,  | 
Which  now  beneath'  them,  |  but  above  shall  grow,  | 
In  its  nexix  verdure,  |  when  this  fiery  mass  | 
Of  living  valour,  |  rolling  on  the  foe,  | 
And  burning  w ith  high  hope, | shall  moulder  cold,  and lowt. | 

Lasi  noon  beheld  them  full  of  lusty  life' ;  | 
Lasi  eve,  in  Beauty's  circle  proudly  gayv ;  | 
The  midnight    brought  the  signal  sound  of  strife* ;  | 
The  morn,|the  marshalling  in  arms', —  |  the  day,  | 
Battle's  magnificently-stern  arrayv !  | 
The  thunder-clouds  close  o'er  it,  \  which  when  rent,  \ 
The  earth  is  cover'd  thicA;  with  other  clay    | 
Which  her  own  clay  shall  cover,  |  heap'd  and  peni\,  | 
Rider,  and  horsev, —  |  friend*,  |  foe', —  |  in  one  red 
burial  bleniv !  | 

MARCO    BOZZARIS.a 

(HALLECK.) 
At  midnight,  in  his  guarded  tent,  \ 

The  Turk    was  dreaming  of  the  hour     | 
When  Greece,  |  ^er  knee  in  suppliance  ben£,  j 

Should  tremble  ai  his  powder :  | 

•  Marco  Bozzaris,  the  Epaminondas  of  modern  Greece.     He  fell 
in  a  night  attack  upon  the  Turkish  camp  at  Laspi,  the  site  of  the 


214  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

In  dreams,  through  cam/),  said  court,  he  bore     | 
The  trophies  of  a  con'queror;  | 

In  dreams  his  song  of  trrumph   heard  ;a  | 
Then  (  wore  his  monarch's11  sig\ne£-ring ;  | 
Then  ,  press'd  tha£  monarch's  thrones  —  |  a  king' ;  | 
As  wild  his  thoughts,  and  gay  of  wing,  | 

As  Eden's  gardenc-bird.  | 

lAt  midnight,  in  the  forest-shades^  | 

2Bozza'ris  rang'd  his  Suliote  band* —  | 
True  as  the  steel  of  their  tried  bladesv,  | 

Heroes  in  heart,  and  handv.  | 
There  had  the  Persian's  thousands  stood;  | 
There  had  the  glad  earth    drunk  their  bloods  | 

On  old  PlatreVs  day —  | 
And  now  ( there  breath'd  that  haunted  air,  J 
The  sons  of  sires  who  con'quer'd  there,  | 
With  arm  to  stride,  |  and  soul  to  dares  | 

As  quicA,  as  far'  as  they.  | 

'An  hour  pass'd  onxd —  J  2the  TurA;  awo&ev —  \ 

Thai  bright  dream  was  his  las£v ;  | 
He  wo&e   to  hear  his  sentries  shriek  —  | 

•#""  To  arms'!  |they  come>  !|theGree&'!  the^Gree&x!  | 
He  wo&e   to  die\  midst  flame,  and  smokes  j 
And  shout,  and  groan,  and  sa'bre-stro/ce,  | 

And  death-shots  falling  thick,  and  fasZ,  j 
As  lightnings  from  the  moun'tain-cloud ;  j 
And  heard,  with  voice  as  trunvpeZ-loud,  | 

Bozzaris  cheer  his  bandv :  | 
fff"  Stride    till  the  last  arm'd  foe    expires* ;  | 
Stride    for  your  al'tars,  and  your  firesx;  | 
Stride    for  the  green  graves  of  your  siresv —  | 

Gods  and  your  native  land' !"  | 

ancient  Platsea,  August  20,  1823,  and  expired  in  the  moment  of 
victory.  His  last  words  were  —  "  To  die  for  liberty  is  a  pleasure, 
and  not  a  pain." 

a  Triumph  heard  ;  not   tri-um'furd.      b  M6n'n£rks.      c  G^r'dn. 
d  Pass'd  on ;  not  pass-ton'. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  215 

They  fough*  like  bravev  men  —  |  long,  and  wellx  ;  j 

They  pil'd  tha*  ground  with  Moslem  slain^;  | 
They  con'quer'd  —  |  bu*  Bozzaris  fell*,  | 

Bleeding  at  every  veinx.  | 
His  few  surviving  comrades*  ,  saw  (   | 
His  smile  when  rang  their  proud  hurrah',  j 

And  the  red  field  was  wonx;  | 
Then  saw  in  death  7/is  eyelids  close  ,  , 
Calmly,  as  to  a  night's  repose*,  | 

Li&e  flowxers  at  set  of  sunv.  | 


to  the  bridal  b  chanrber,  Death  !  | 

Come  to  the  mother's,  |  when  she  feels  1 
For  the  firs*  time,  j  her  firstborn's  breath  —  j 

Come   when  the  blessed  seals  | 
"Thai  close  the  pestilence,  are  bro&e,  | 
And  crowded  cities    wail  its  stro&ex  —  | 
Come  in  consumption's  ghastly  form,  | 
The  earthquake  shocA;',  |  the  ocean-stornr  —  | 
2Come  when  the  hear*  beats  high,  and  warm,  j 

With  banxquet-song,  |  and  dance',  |  and  wine*  —  | 
lAnd  thou  ar*  terrible  —  |  the  tear',  j 
The  groan/,  |  the  knell',  |  the  pall',  |  the  bien  ;  | 
And  all  we  know,  |  or  dream',  |  or  fear'  | 

Of  agony,  |  are  thinex.  | 

4Bu*  to  the  hero,  |  3when  his  swore?    ! 

Has  won  the  battle  for  the  free,  | 
4Thy  voice  sounds  like  a  proph'et's  word;  | 
2And  in  its  hollow  tones,  are  heard     | 

4The  thanks  of  millions  ye*  to  bev.  | 
3Come   when  ^is  task  of  fame'  is  wrough*  —  | 
Come    with  her  lauxrel-leaf,  |  blood.-bough*  —  | 

Come    in  her  crowding  hour  —  |  and  then    | 
2Thy  sunken  eye's  unearthly  ligh*     | 
To  him  is  welcome  as  the  sigh*     | 

Of  sky,  and  stars  to  prison'd  ment  :  | 


,  saw;  not  cum'rades-saw.     bBrl'd&l;  not  brl'dle. 


216  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

3Thy  grasp    is  welcome  as  the  hand    | 
Of  brother    in  a  foreign  landx ;  | 
Thy  summons,  welcome  as  the  cry     | 
Thai  told  the  Indian  Isles'  were  nigh     | 

To  the  world-seeking  Genoese,  | 
When  the  land-wind,  ]  from  woods  of  palm,  | 
And  orange-groves,  ]  and  fields  of  balm,  | 

Blew  o'er  the  Haytian  seasv.  | 

4Bozzaris  !  |  with  the  stori'd  brave,  | 

Greece  nurtur'd  in  Aer  glo'ry's  time,  | 
Res£v  thee  —  |  2there  is  no  prouder  grave,  | 

Even  in  her  own  proud  climex.  | 
She  wore  no  funeral  weeds  for  theex,  | 

Nor  bade  the  darA  hearse  wave  its  plume     | 
Li&e  torn  branch  from  death's  leafless  tree^  j 
In  sorrow's  pom/>,  and  pavgeantry,  | 

The  heartless  luxury  of  the  tombt.  | 

'But  she  remembers  thee  as  one     | 

Long  lov'd',  |  and  for  a  season  gonev ;  | 

For  thee  her  poet's  lyre  is  wreath'dvj  | 

Her  marble  wrought,  |  her  music  breath'd^;  | 

For  thee  she  rings  the  birtlr-day  bellsx ;  | 

Of  thee  Aer  babes'  first  listing  tells :  | 

For  thine  Aer  evening  prayer  is  said     | 

At  palace-couch,  and  cotxtage-bed  ;  | 

Her  soldier,  closing  with  the  foe,  | 

Gives,  for  thy  sake,  a  deadlier  blow* ;  | 

His  plighted  maiden,  when  she  fears     | 

For  him,  the  joy  of  Aer  young  years,  | 

Thinks  of  thyx  fate,  |  and  checks  her  tears\  —  j 

And  she,  the  mother  of  thy  boysx,  | 
Though  in  Aer  eye,  and  faded  cheeA;     | 
Is  read  the  grief  she  will  not  spea&',  | 

The  mem'ry  of  Aer  buried  joysv,  | 
And  even  she  who  gave  thee  births  | 
Will,  by  their  pilgrim-circled  hearth,  j 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  217 

Ta.&  of  thy  doom  without  a  sigh' :  | 
m/Tor  thou  art  Freedom's  now,  |  and  Fame's  ;  | 
One  of  the  few,  |  the  immortal  names,  | 

Thai  were  not  born  to  diev.  | 


(CAMPBELL.) 
Wizard  and  Lochiel. 


Lochiel,  Lochiel,  beware  of  the  day  | 
When  the  Lowlands  shall  meet  thee  in  battle  array* !  j 
For  a  field  of  the  dead  rushes  red  on  my  sight1,  \ 
And  the  clans  of  Culloden  are  scatter'd  in  nght, :  \ 
They  rally,  |  they  bleed',  |  for  their  kingdom  and  crown> ;  j 
Wo,  wo  to  the  riders  thai  trample  them  dowa !  | 
Proud  Cumberland  prances,  insulting  the  slainx,  | 
And  their  hoof-beaten  bosoms  are  trod  to  the  plainv.  | 
Bui  har/r  / 1  through  the  fasi-flashing  lightning  of  war,  | 
What  steed  to  the  desert  flies  frantic  and  far'  ?  | 
'T  is  thines  Oh  Glenullin  !    whose  bride  shall  awaii',  | 
Like  a  love-lighted  watch'-fire,  all  nighi  at  the  gaie*.  | 
A  steed  comes  at  monring —  |  no  ri'der  is  there;  | 
Bui  its  bridle  is  red  with  the  sign  of  despair^.  | 
Weepx,  Albin !  |  to  death,  and  captivity  led  /  | 
O  weep1/  |  but  thy  tears  cannoi  number  the  deadv :  | 
For  a  merciless  sword  on  Culloden  shall  wave7,  | 
Culloden  thai  reeks  with  the  blood  of  the  bravet.  | 

LOCHIEL. 

Go,  preach  to  the  cow'ard,  |  thou  deaths-telling  seer !  ] 
Or,  if  gory  Culloden  so  dreadful  appear,  | 
Draw,  dotard,  around  thy  old  wavering  sighi,  | 
This  man'tle,  |  to  cover  the  phantoms  of  frigh£v.  | 

WIZARD. 

Hav !  !  laugh'si  thou,  Lochiel,  my  vision  to  scorn'?  | 
Proud  bird  of  the  mountain,  |  thy  plume  shall  be  torn!  j 
19 


21S  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Sayx,  |  rush'd  the  bold  eagle,  exultingly  forth',  ] 
From  his  home  in  the  dark-rolling  clouds  of  the  north'?  | 
Lo !  the  death-sho^  of  foemen  out-speeding,  he  rode   \ 
Compan'ionless,  |  bearing  destruction  abroad ;  | 
Bu£  down  let  him  stoop  from  his  havoc  on  higlr !  | 
Ah !  home'  let  him  speed,  |  for  the  spoiler  is  nigh.  | 
Why  flames  the  far  sunrmk  ?  \  Why  shooZ  to  the  blas£  j 
Those  em'bers,  |  like  stars  from  the  firmament,  cast  ?  \ 
'T  is  the  fire-shower  of  ru'in,  |  all  dreadfully  driven    | 
From  his  eyry,  |  thai  beacons  the  darkness  of  heavvn.  | 

0  crested  Lochiel !  |  the  peerless  in  might,  | 
Whose  banners  arise  on  the  battlements'  height,  | 
Heaven's  fire  is  around  thee    to  blasZ  and  to  bum ;  | 
Return  to  thy  dwelling:    all  lonely  return  !  | 

For  the  blackness  of  aslres   shall  mark  where  it  stood,  I 
And  a  wild  mother  scream  o'er  Aer  famishing  brood  /  j 

LOCHIEL. 

False  Wizard,  avaunZV  1 1  have  marshall'd  my  clanx :  | 
Their  swords  are  a  thousand ;  |  their  bosoms  are  one, :  \ 
They  are  true  to  the  lasZ  of  their  blood,  and  their  breathy  | 
And  like  reap'ers,  descend  to  the  harvest  of  deathv.  | 
Then  welcome  be  Cumberland's  steed  to  the  shock'!  \ 
Le£  Aim  dash  his  proud  foam  like  a  wave  on  the  rocA:  / 1 
Bu£  wo  to  his  kindred,  |  and  wo  to  his  cause',  | 
When  AFbin  her  claymore  indignantly  draws ;  | 
When  her  bonneted  chieftains  to  victory  crowd,  | 
Clanronald  the  dauntless,  and  Moray  the  proud;  | 
All  plaided,  and  plum'd  in  their  tartan  array [ 

WIZARD. 

Lochiel,  Lochiel,  beware  of  the  dayx !  | 
For,  dar/c,  and  despairing,  my  sight  I  may  seal,  I 
Ye£  man  cannot  cover  \vha.t  God  would  reveal :  | 
'T  is  the  sunset  of  life    gives  me  mystical  lore,  \ 
And  coming  events   cast  their  shadows  before^.  | 

1  tell  thee,  Culloden's  dread  echoes  shall  ring   | 

With  the  bloodhounds  tha£  bar/c  for  thy  fugitive  king1-  1 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  219 

Lo !  anointed  by  heaven  with  the  vials  of  wrath,  | 

Behold  where  he  flies  on  Ais  desolate  path* !  | 

Now  in  darkness,  and  billows,  he  sweeps  from  my  sigh^ : , 

Rise*!  RiseM  ye  wilt/  tempes/s,  and  cover  his  flight  / — 

'Tis  finish 'd. —  |  Their  thunders  arehush'donthe  moorsv;| 

Culloden1  is  losix,  |  and  my  country  deploresv.  | 

Bui  where  is  the  iron-bound  pris  oner  ?   |   Wherex  ?  | 

For  the  red  eye  of  battle  is  shui  in  despair^.  | 

Says  mounts  he  the  ocean- wave,  |  banish'd,  forlorn',  | 

Like  a  limb  from  his  country,  cast  bleeding,  and  torn'  ?  | 

Ah  !  nbx ;  |  for  a  dark'er  departure  is  near ;  | 

The  war-drum  is  muffled,  |  and  blacA;  is  the  bien ;  | 

His  death-bell  is  tolling ;  |  Oh !  mercy,  dispel    | 

Yon  sighi,  that  it  freezes  my  spirit  to  tell* !  | 

Life  flutters,  convuls'd  in  his  quivering  limbs,  | 

And  Ais  blood-streaming  nostril    in  agvony  swims.  | 

Accurs'd  be  the  fagots  thai  blaze  at  his  feet,  \ 

Where  his  heart  shall  be  thrown,  ere  it  ceases  to  beai,  | 

With  the  smo&e  of  its  ashes  to  poison  the  gale | 

LOCHIEL. 

Oown',  soothlessb  insultxer !    I  trusi  not  the  talev ;  j 

For  never  shall  Albin  (  a  destiny  meet    \ 

80  blac/£  with  dishonour —  |  so  foul  with  retrea^.  | 

Tho'  his  perishing  ranks  should  be  strow'd  in  their  gore,  | 

Like  o'cean-weeds  ,  heap'd  on  the  surf-beaten  shore*,  | 

Lochiel,  untainted  by  flight,  or  by  chains*,  | 

While  the  kindling  of  life  in  his  bosom  remains,  | 

Shall  victor  exult,  \  or  in  death  be  laid  low,  | 

With  his  back  to  the  field,  \  and  his  feet  to  the  foe* !  | 

And,  leaving  in  battle  no  b\ot  on  his  name,  | 

LOO&  proudly  to  heaven    |  from  the  death-bed  of  fame.  J 


;  not  Cdl-16'dn.  b  Sbth'tts. 


220  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

THE    HERMIT. 

(BEATTIE.) 
At  the  close  of  the  day,  when  the  hamlet  is  still,  | 

And  mortals  the  sweets  of  forgetfulness  prove ;  | 
When  nought  but  the  torrent   is  heard  on  the  hill, ) 

And  nought  but  the  nightmgale's  song*  in  the  grove* :  j 
It  was  thus,  by  the  cave  of  the  mountam  afar,  | 

While  his  harp  rung  symphonious,  |  a  her'mii  began ;  | 
No  more  with  /nmself,  or  with  nature    at  war,  | 

He  thought  as  a  sagex,a    though  he  kit   as  a  manvb.  | 

Ah !  why  all  abandon'd  to  darkness,  and  wox  ?  | 

Why,  lone  Philomela,  thai  languishing  fall '(  \ 
For  spring  shall  return,  and  a  lover  bestow,  | 

And  sorrow  (  no  longer  thy  bosom  inthralv.  | 
Bui,  if  pity  inspire  thee,  |  renew'  the  sad  lay;  | 

Mourn, sweetesicomplainer,|manx  calls thee  to  mourn;] 
O  soothe  him  whose  pleasures    like  thine' ,  pass  away;  | 

Full  quickly  they  pass  —  |  but  u  they  never  return.  | 

Now  (  gliding  remote  on  the  verge  of  the  sky,  | 

The  moon  half-extinguish'^,  her  cres^ceni  displays ;  | 
Bui  lately  I  mark'e? ,  |  when  majestic  on  high\  | 

She  shone*,  !  and  the  planets  were  losi  in  her  blaze.  | 
Roll  ,  on',  thou  fair  ( orb,  \  and  with  gladness  pursue    | 

The  path  thai  conduces  thee  to  splendour  again* :  | 
Bui  manV  faded  glory    j  whai  change  shall  renew^  1  \ 

Ah  fooF  !  to  exuliv  in  a  glory  so  vain  !  I 

'T  is  nighix  —  I  and  the  landscape  is  lovely  no  more* :  | 

I  mourn ;  I  bui,  ye  woodlands,  I  mourn  not  for  youx;  | 
For  morn   is  approaching,  your  charms  to  restore*,  | 

Perfum'dwithfreshfragrance,andglitteringwithdew.J 
NFor  jet  for  the  ravage  of  win'ter  I  mourn ;  | 

Kind  Nature,  the  embryo  blossom    will  save* :  I 
Bui  when  shall  spring ,  visii  the  mouldering  urn» !  I 

O  when  shall  day  t  dawn  ,  on  the  nighi  of  the  gravej  ^ 

"Thong-ht  as  a  sage;  not  thaw'taz-zer  sage.     D Felt  as  a  man, 
not  fel'taz-zer  man. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  221 

'T  was  thus  t  by  the  glare  of  false  science  betray'd,  | 

That  leads  to  bewilder,  and  dazzles  to  blind;  | 
My  thoughts  wont  to  roam  from  shade  onward  to  shade,  | 

Destruction  before  me,  and  sorrow  behind.  | 
O  pity,  greaJ  Father  of  LighJ,  |  then  ,  I  cried,  | 

Thy  creature  who  fain  would  not  wander  from  theev  !  ' 
Lo,  humbled  in  dust,  I  relinquish  my  pride*  :  | 

From  doub£,and  from  darkness,!  thou  only,  canst  freev.l 

And  darkness,  and  doub*  are  now  flying  awayv;  | 

No  longer  (  I  roam  in  conjecture  forlorn.  :  | 
So  breaks  on  the  traveller,  j  fain£  and  astray,  | 

The  bright,  and  the  balmy  effulgence  of  mornv.  | 
See  Truth,  Love,  and  Mercy,  in  triumph  descending,  | 

And  Nature  all  glowing  in  Eden's  first  bloonr  !  | 
On  the  coldcheeA:  of  Death,|smiles  and  rouses  are  blending,] 

And  Beauty,  immor'tal,  |  awakes  from  the  tomfy.  | 


DIALOGUE    BETWEEN    KING    EDWARD,   AND    TIIE     EARL   OF 
WARWICK. 

[Translated  from  the  French,  by  Dr.  Thomas  Franklin.] 

Edw.  Le£  me  have  no  intruders  ;  |  above  all, 
Keep  Warwick  from  my  sigh^  —  | 

[Enter  WARWICK.] 

War.  Behold  him  herev  —  | 
No  welcome  gues£,  it  seems,  |  unless  I  asA; 
My  lord  of  Suffolk's  leave  —  |  there  was  a  time  | 
When  Warwic/c  wanted  not  his'  aid  |  to  gain 
Admission  here.  | 

Ed.  There  was  a  time,  perhaps,  | 
When  Warwick  more  desired',  |  and  more  7  deserved^  it.\ 

War.  Never;  |  I  've  been  a  foolish,  faithful  slavey  j 
All  my  best  yearsv,    the  morning  of  my  life',  | 
Have  been  devoted  to  your  service  :  |  wha^ 
Are  now  the  fruits'  ?  j  Disgrace*,  and  infamy  —  | 
My  spotless  name,  |  which  never  yet  the  breath 
Of  calumny  had  tainted,  |  made  the  moc& 
19* 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

For  foreign  fools  to  carp  ai :  \  but  'tis  fii, 

Who  trust  in  princes,  |  should  be  thus  rewarded.  | 

Ed.  I  thought,  my  lord,  \  I  had  full  well  repaid' 
Your  services  |  with  honours,  |  wealth',  |  and  power 
Unlimited :  |  thy  all-directing  hand  1 
Guided  in  se'crei  |  every  latent  wheel 
Of  government,  |  and  mov'd  the  whole  machine^ :  | 
Warwick  was  all  inv  all,  \  and  powerless  Edward  | 
Stood  like  a  ci'pher  in  the  great  account  | 

War.  Who  gave  that  cipher  worthv,|  and  seated  thee 
On  England's  throne'  ?  |   Thy  undistinguish'd  name  I 
Had  rotted  in  the  dust  from  whence  it  sprang',  [ 
And  moulder'd  in  oblivion,  j  had  noi  WarwicA:  | 
Dug  from  its  sordid  mine  |  the  useless  ore',  | 
And  stamp'd  it  with  a  divadem.  |  Thou  knowesi 
This  wretched  country,  |  doom'd,  perhaps,  like  Rome ,  , 
To  fall  by  its  own  self -destroying  hand,  | 
Tosi  for  so  many  years  j  in  the  rough  sea 
Of  civil  discord',  |  bui  for  me  had  per'ish'd.  | 
In  thai  distressful  hour,  1 1  seiz'd  the  helm',  | 
Bade  the  rough  waves  subside  in  peace%  |  and  steer'd 
Your  shatter'd  vessel  safe  into  the  hanbour.  I 
You  may  despise,  perhaps,  |  thai  useless  aid  | 
Which  you  no  longer  wanix ;  |  but  know,  proud  youth,  j 
He  who  forgets  a  friend,  |  deserves  a  foev.  | 

Ed.  Know,  too,  |  reproach  for  benefits  receiv'd,  | 
Pays  every  debis  |  and  cancels  obligation.  | 

War.  Why,  thai  indeed  is  fnrgal  honesty, 
A  thrifty,  saving  knowledge :  |  when  the  debi 
Grows  burdensome,  |  and  cannoi  be  discharg'd,  | 
A  sponge  will  wipe  oui  alb,  |  and  cost  you  nothing.  | 

Ed.  When  you  have  counted  o'er  the  numerous  train 
Of  mighty  gifts  |  your  bounty  lavish'd  on  me,  | 
You  may  remember  nexi  |  the  injuries 
Which  I  have  done  you  ;  |  lei  me  know  them  all1,  | 
And  I  will  make  you  ample  satisfaction.   | 

War.  Thou  cansi'  noi;  |thou  hasi  robb'd  me  of  a  jewel  1 
It  is  noi  in  thy  pow  er  to  restore :  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  223 

I  was  the  firsi,  |  shall  future  annals  say,  | 
Thai  broke  the  sacred  bond  of  public  trusi 
And  mutual  confidence ;  |  ambassadors, 
In  after  times,  |  mere  instruments,  perhaps,  | 
Of  venal  states'men,  |  shall  recall  my  name     | 
To  witness  thai  they  wani  not  an  exanVple,  | 
And  plead  my  guilt  \  to  sanctify  their  own.  | 
Amidsi  the  herd  of  mercenary  slaves 
Thai  hauni  your  court,  |  could  none  be  found  but  War- 
wick, | 
To  be  the  shameless  herald  of  a  lie'  ?  | 

Ed.  And  wouldsi  thou  turn  the  vile  reproach  on  me'?  j 
If  I  have  bro&e  my  faith,  |  and  stain'd  the  name 
Of  England,  |  thanA  thy  own  pernicious  counsels  | 
That  urged*  me  to  it,  \  and  extorted  from  me  | 
A  cold  consent  to  whai  my  heart  abhorr'd*. 

War.  I  Ve  been  abus'dv,  |  insulted,  |  and  betray'ds ;  J 
My  injur'd  honour  cries  aloud  for  vengeance,  | 
Her  wounds  will  never  close* !  | 

Ed.  These  gusis  of  passion  I 
Will  but  inflamex  them ;  |  If  I  have  been  righi 
Informed,  my  lord,  |  besides  these  dangerous  scars 
Of  bleeding  honour,    you  have  other  wounds 
As  deep',    though  not  so  favtal :  |  such,  perhaps,  i 
As  none  but  fair  Elizabeth  can  cure.  | 

War.  Elizabeth!  | 

Ed.  Nay,  start*  not —  |  I  have  cause 
To  wonder  mosi'  :  |  I  little  though/,  indeed,  | 
When  Warwick  told  me,  I  mighi  learn  to  love,  | 
He  was  himself  so  able  to  instruct  me:  | 
Bui  I  've  discovered  alb  —  | 

War.  And  so  have  T  —  | 

Too  well  I  know  thy  breach  of  friendship  theres  ] 
Thy  fruitless,  base  endeavours  to  supplant  me.  | 

Ed.  I  scorn'  it,  Sir  —  |  Elizabeth  hath  charmsx,  | 
And  I  have  equal  righi  with  you'  to  admirex  them ;  j 
Nor  see  I  aughi  so  godlike  in  the  forms  | 
So  all-comman'ding  in  the  name  of  Warwick,  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

ThaZ  he  alone  should  revel  in  the  charms 
Of  beauty,  |  and  monopolize  perfection.  | 
I  knew  not  of  your  love. 

War.  'Tis  false!  | 

You  knew  it  all',  |  and  meanly  took  occasion,  | 
Whilst  I  was  busied  in  the  noble  office,  | 
Your  Grace  thought  fit  to  honour  me  withal,  | 
To  tamper  with  a  wea/c,  unguarded  wo'man,  ; 
And  basely  steal  a  treasure  | 
Which  your  kingdom  could  not  purchase.  J 

Ed.  How  know  you  tha£'  ?  \  but  be  it  as  it  may*,  | 
I  had  a  righ^,  |  nor  will  I  tamely  yield 
My  claim  to  hap'piness,  |  the  privilege 
To  choose  the  partner  of  my  throne' :  | 
It  is  a  branch  of  my  prerogative.  | 

War.  Prerogative !  |  what 's  tha^  ?  |  the  boasZ  of  ty 

rants,    | 

A  borrow'd  jewel,  |  glittering  in  the  crown 
With  spe'cious  lustre,  |  lent  but  to  betray\.  | 
You  had  it,  Sir,  |  and  hold'  it,  |  from  the  people. 

Ed.  And  therefore  do  I  prize'  it:\I  would  guard 
Their  liberties,  |  and  they  shall  strengthen  mine' :  | 
BuZ  when  proud  faction,  and  her  rebel  crew  | 
InsuU  their  soveTeign,  |  trample  on  his  laws',  | 
And  bid  defiance  to  his  pow'er,  |  the  people, 
In  justice  to  themselves',  |  will  then  defend 
His  cause',  |  and  vindicate  the  rights  they  gave.  | 

War.  Go  to  your  darling  people,  then ;  |  for  soon, 
If  I  mistake  not,  |  't  will  be  needvful ;  |  try 
Their  boasted  zeal',  |  and  see  if  onex  of  them  | 
Will  dare  to  lift  his  arm  up  in  your  cause,  | 
If  I  forbid'  him.  \ 

Ed.  Is  it  so,  my  lord'  ?  \ 

Then  mar&  my  wordsv :  1 1  've  been  your  slave  too  long',  | 
And  you  have  ruled  me  with  a  rod  of  rron ;  | 
Bu£  henceforth  know,  proud  peer,  1 1  am  thy  mas'ter,  | 
And  will'  be  so :  |  the  king  who  delegates 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  225 

His  power  to  others'  hands,  |  but  ill  deserves 
The  crowiv  he  wears.  | 

War.  Loo/c  well  then  to  your  ownx : 
1 1  sits  but  foose'ly  on  your  headv ;  |  for,  knows  | 
The  man  who  injur'd  War'wicA:,  J  never  pass'd 
UnpunishV  yet.  | 

Ed.  Nor  he  who  threaten'd  Ed^ward  —  | 
You  may  repent^  it,  Sir  —  |  my  guards'  there  —  j  seize 
This  trartor,    and  convey  him  to  the  Tow  er  —  | 
There  let  Aim  learn  obedience.  | 


SPEECH    ON     THE    SUBJECT     OP     EMPLOYING     THE    INDIANS 
TO    FIGHT    AGAINST    THE    AMERICANS.     NOV.  18,  1777.* 

(LORD  CHATHAM.) 

I  carrno*,  my  lords,  1  1  will*  not  |  join  in  congratula- 
tion |  on  misfortune  and  disgrace^  |  This,  my  lords,  |  is 
a  perilous,  and  tremendous  moment  ;  |  it  is  not  a  time 
for  adula  uon  :  |  the  smoothness  of  flattery  cannot  save 
us  |  in  this  rugged  and  awxful  crisis.  |  It  is  now  neces- 
sary j  to  instruct  the  throne  in  the  language  of  truths  | 
We  musZ,  if  possible,  |  dispel  the  delusion,  and  darkness 
which  envelope  it  ;  \  and  display  in  its  full  danger,  and 
genuine  colours,  |  the  ruin  which  is  brought  to  our 


Can  ministers  still  presume  to  expect  support  in  their 
infatua'tion  ?  |  Can  parliament  be  so  dead  to  its  dig- 
nity, and  duty,)  as  to  giye  us  support  to  measures  thus 
obtruded,  and  forced'  upon  it  ?  \  measures,  my  lords,  | 
which  have  reduced  this  late  flourishing  empire  |  to 
scorn,  and  contempt  .  |  Bu£  yesterday,  |  and  England 
might  have  stood  against  the  world';  |  now,  none  so  poor 
as  ^to  do  her  revverence  !  | 

*  Mr.  Pitt  delivered  this  speech  in  opposition  to  Lord  Suffolk, 
who  proposed  in  Parliament  to  employ  the  Indians  against  the 
Americans  ;  and  who  had  said,  in  the  course  of  the  debate,  that  they 
had  a  right  to  use  all  the  means,  thai  God  and  Nature  had  put  into 
their  hands,  to  conquer  America. 


226  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

The  people  whom  we  at  first  despised  as  rebels,  |  but 
whom  we  now  acknowledge  as  enemies,  |  are  abetted 
against  us,  j  supplied  with  every  military  store',  |  their 
interest  consulted,  |  and  their  ambassadors  entertained  | 
by  our  inveterate  en^erny  ;  |  and  ministers  do  noi,  |  and 
dare'  not  |  interpose  with  dignity,  or  effect  | 

The  desperate  state  of  our  army  abroad,  |  is,  in  part, 
known,  j  No  man  more  highly  esteems,  and  honours 
the  English  troops  than  Ix  do :  |  I  know  their  virtues, 
and  their  valour ;  1 1  know  they  can  achieve  any  thing 
but  impossibilities ;  |  and  I  know  thai  the  conquest  of 
English  America,  |  is'  an  impossibility  :  |  you  cannot,  my 
lords,  |  you  cannot,  conquer  America.  | 

Whai  is  your  present  situation  there  ?  |  We  do  noi 
know  the  worsi  ;  j  but  we  know  j  that  in  three  cam- 
paigns |  we  have  done  nothing,  and  suffered  much.  | 
You  may  swell  every  expense1,  |  accumulate  every  as- 
sistance, and  extend  your  traffic  to  the  shambles  of 
every  German  des^poi,  |  yei  your  attempts  will  be  for 
ever  vain  and  im'poteni ;  j  doubly  so  indeed  j  from  this 
mercenary  aid  on  which  you  relyv ;  |  for  it  irritates,  to 
an  incurable  reseni'meni,  |  the  minds  of  your  adversa- 
ries, |  to  overrun  them  with  the  mercenary  sons  of  ra- 
pine, and  plunder,  devoting  them,  and  their  possessions,  ( 
to  the  rapacity  of  hireling  cruelty.  |  If  I  were  an 
American,  |  as  I  am  an  Englishman,  |  while  a  foreign 
troop  was  landed  in  my  country,  1 1  nevxer  would  lay 
down  my  arms  —  |  Nevver !  |  NeVer !  |  Nev^er  !  | 

Bui,  my  lords,  |  who  is  the  man  |  thai,  in  addition  to 
the  disgraces,  and  mischiefs  of  the  war,  |  has  dared  to 
authorize,  and  associate  to  our  arms  j  the  tomahawk, 
and  scalping-knife  of  the  savage  —  |  to  call  into  civil- 
ized alliance,  |  the  wild,  and  inhuman  inhabitant  of  the 
W0ods' —  j  to  delegate  to  the  merciless  Indian  |  the 
defence  of  disputed  rightSx,  |  and  to  wage  the  horrors 
of  his*  barbarous  war  |  againsi  our  brethren?  My 
lords,  |  these  enormities  |  cry  aloud  for  redress,  and 
punishment 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  227 

Bui,  my  lords,  |  this  barbarous  measure  has  been  de- 
fended, j  not  only  on  the  principles  of  policy,  and  neces- 
sity, |  bui  also  on  those  of  morality;  |  "for  it  is  per- 
fectly allowable,"  |  says  Lord  Suffolk,  |  "  to  use  all  the 
means  j  that  God,  and  nature  have  pui  into  our  hands."  | 
I  am  astonashed,  1 1  am  shocked',  |  to  hear  such  princi- 
ples confessed* ;  |  to  hear  them  avowed  in  this  house',  | 
or  in  this  country  !  ] 

My  lords,  |  I  did  not  intend  to  encroach  so  much  on 
your  attention ;  |  but  I  cannot  repress  my  indignation :  I 
I  feel  myself  impelled'  to  spea/c.  |  My  lords,  |  we  are 
called  upon  as  members  of  this  houses  |  as  men',  |  as 
Christians,  |  to  protest  againsi  such  horrible  barbar- 
ity —  |  "  Thai  God,  and  nature  have  put  into  our 
handsx !"  |  Whai  ideas  of  God,  and  nature  |  thai  noble 
lord  may  entertain,  |  I  know*  not ;  \  but  I  know  |  thai 
such  detestable  principles  |  are  equally  abhorreni  to 
religion,  and  humanity.  | 

Whai>  /  |  to  attribute  the  sacred  sanction  of  God,  and 
nature,  |  to  the  massacres  of  the  Indian  scal'ping-knife !  | 
to  the  cannibal  savage,  |  torturing,  |  murdering,  |  and 
devouring  his  unhappy  vic'tims !  |  Such  notions  shock 
every  precepi  of  morality,  ]  every  feeling  of  human'ity,  | 
every  sentimeni  of  honour.  |  These  abominable  prin- 
ciples, |  and  this  more  abominable  avowal  of  them,  | 
demand  the  mosi  decisive  indignation.  | 

I  call  upon  thai  righi  reverend,  |  and  this  mosi  learn'- 
ed  bench,  |  to  vindicate  the  religion  of  their  Gods  |  to 
suppori  the  justice  of  their  country.  |  I  call  upon  the 
bishops  |  to  interpose  the  unsullied  sanctity  of  their 
lawns  |  upon  the  judges  |  to  interpose  the  purity  of  their 
er'mine,  |  to  save  us  from  this  pollution.  |  I  call  upon 
the  honour  of  your  lordships  |  to  reverence  the  dignity 
of  your  an'cestors,  |  and  to  maintain  your  own*.  |  I  call 
upon  the  spirii,  and  humanity  of  my  coun'try,  |  to  vin- 
dicaie  the  national  character :  |  I  invoke  the  genius  of 
the  British  Constitution.  | 

To  send  forth  the  merciless  Indian,  |  thirsting  for 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

bloodx  /  I  against  whomv  ?  |  your  protestaru  brethren !  | 
To  lay  waste  their  country,  |  to  desolate  their  dweb- 
lings,  |  and  extirpate  their  race,  and  name',  |  by  the  aid, 
and  instrumentality  |  of  these  ungovernable  savages,  j 
Spain  can  no  longer  boast  pre-emvinence  in  barbarity.  | 
She  armed  herself  with  bloods-hounds  |  to  extirpate  the 
wretched  natives  of  Mexvico ;  |  we,  more  ruthless,  |  loose 
thesex  dogs  of  war  |  against  our  countrymen  in  Amerv- 
ica,  |  endeared  to  us  |  by  every  tie  thai  can  sanctify 
humanity.  | 

I  solemnly  call  upon  your  lordships,  |  and  upon  every 
order  of  men  in  the  state',  |  to  stamp  upon  this  infa- 
mous procedure,  j  the  indelible  stigma  of  the  public  ab- 
horrence. |  More  particularly,  1 1  call  upon  the  vene- 
rable prelates  of  our  relrgion,  |  to  do  away  this  iniquity  ;| 
let  them  perform  a  lustration  |  to  purify  the  country  | 
from  this  deep,  and  deadjy  sin.  | 


APOSTROPHE    TO    LIGHT. 

(MILTON.) 

Hail !  holy  Lights  j  offspring  of  Heaven,  first  born*,  j 

Or  of  the  Eternal  co-eternal  beanh,  | 

May  I  express  thee  unblam'd'  ?  \  since  Godv  ( is  light', 

And  never  but  in  unapproaclred  ligh£', 

Dwelt  from  etervnity,  |  dwek  tljen  in  theev,  | 

Bright  effluence  of  bright  essence  invcreate ;  | 

Or  hear's*  thou  rather,  ]  pure  ethereal  stream',  | 

Whose  fountain  who  shall  telL  ?   I   Before  the  suns  | 

Before  the  heavens,  thou  werZ,  |  and  at  the  voice 

Of  God,  |  as  with  a  man'tle,  |  didst  invest 

The  rising  world  of  waiters,  |  darA;,  and  deep\,  \ 

Won  from  the  void,  and  formless  infinite.  I 

Thee  I  revisit  now  with  bolder  wingv,  | 
Escap'd  the  Stygian  pool,  |  though  long  detained 
In  tha^  obscure  sojourn,  |  while  in  my  flight, ! 
Through  utter,  and  through  middle  darkness  borne,  j 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  229 

With  other  notes  than  to  the  Orphean  lyre,  j 
I  sung  of  chaos,  and  eternal  nigh^  ;  | 
Taught  by  the  heavenly  muse   j  to  venture  down 
The  dar&  descend,  I  and  up  to  re-ascend,  | 
Though  hard,  and  rare* :  I  thee  I  revisit  safes  I 
And  feel  thy  sovereign,  vital  lamp* ;  |  but  thou 
Revisit'si  not  these  eyesv  |  thai  roll    in  vain,  | 
To  fine?  thy  piercing  ray,  I  and  find  no  dawn* ;  | 
So  thick    a  drop  serene*  I  hath  quench'd  their  orbsv 
Or  dim  suffusion  veil'd .  | 

Yei  noi  the  more  | 

Cease ,  I ,  to  wander  where  the  muses  hauni, ) 
Clear  spring',  |  or  shady  grove',  |  or  sunny  hill*,  ) 
Smii  with  the  love  of  sacred  song* ;  |  but  chief 
Thee,  Sion,  I  and  the  flow'ry  brooks  beneath,  I 
Thai  wash  thy  hallow'd  fee*,  and  trwarbling  flow,  i 
Nightly  I  vis,ii ;  |  nor  sometimes  forged 
Those  other  two,  j  equall'd  with  me  ,  in  faies  | 
('So  were  I  equal  I'd  with  them  in  renownx)  I 
3Blind  Thanryris,  |  and  blind  Maeon'ides,  I 
j^nd  Tyre'sias,  and  Phin'eas,  !  prophets    old* ;  | 
Then  feed   on  thoughts  |  thai  voluntary  move 
Harmonious^  numbers ;  j  as  the  wakeful  bird 
Sings  dark'ling,  !  and  in  shadiest  covert  hid,  1 
Tunes  her  nocturnal  notesx.  | 

Thus  with  the  year, 
Seasons  return ;    bui  noi  to  me  returns 
Days  I  or  the  sweetf  approach  of  e'en',  or  morn*  —  | 
Or  sigh*  of  vernal  bloom',  I  or  summer's  rosex, 
Or  flocks', !  or  herdss  i  or  human  face  divine* ;  | 
'Bui  cloud  instead,  I  and  ever-during  dar&x 
Surrounds^  me,  1 2from  the  cheerful  ways  of  men 
Cut  off,  I  and  for  the  book  of  knowledge  fair,  | 
Presented  with  a  universal  blan& 
Of  nature's  worksv,  |  to  me  expung'd  and  raz'dv,  j 

*  Drop  serene,  gutta  serena,  a  disease  of  the  eye,  attended  with 
loss  of  vision,  the  organ  retaining  its  natural  transparency. 
20 


230  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

And  wisdom,  at  one  entrance,  quite  shut  out .  \ 
So  much  the  rather  thou,  celestial  LighZ,  | 
Shine  inward,  |  and  the  mind  through  all  her  powers 
Irradiate :  !  there'  plant    eyes',  1  all  mist  from  thence  | 
Purge,  and  disperses  |  thai  I  may  see,  and  tell  | 
Of  things  invisible  to  mortal  sigh^.  | 

HYDER    ALL 

[Extract  from  Mr.  Burke's  Speech  on  the  Nabob  of  Arcot's  Debts.] 

Among  the  victims  to  this  magnificent  plan  of  uni- 
versal plunder,  |  pursued  by  the  company  in  India,  |  so 
worthy  of  the  heroic  avarice  of  the  projectors,  |  you 
Aave  all  heard  |  (and  he  has  made  Aimself  to  be  well 
remembered)  |  of  an  Indian  Chief,  called  Hyder  All 
Khan.  |  This  man  possessed  the  western,  |  as  the  com- 
pany under  the  Nabo6  of  ArcoZ,  |  does  the  east'ern 
division  of  the  Carnatic.*  I  It  was  among  the  leading 
measures  in  the  design  of  this  cabal  |  (according  to  their 
own  emphatic  language)  |  to  extirpate  this  Hyder  Ali.  | 
They  declared  the  Nabob  of  Arco£  to  be  ^is  soveTeign,  j 
and  himself  to  be  a  reb'el,  I  and  publicly  invested  their 
instrument  |  with  the  sovereignty  of  the  kingdom  of 
Mysore.  |  BuZ  their  victim  was  not  of  the  passive 
kind :  |  they  were  soon  obliged  I  to  conclude  a  treaty  of 
peace,  and  close  allrance  with  this  rebel,  |  at  the  gates 
of  Madras.  | 

Both  before,  and  since'  that  treaty,  |  every  principle 
of  policy  I  pointed  out  this  power  as  a  natural  allrance;  | 
and,  on  his  part,  |  it  was  courted  by  every  sort  of  ami- 

*  "The  Carnatic  is  that  portion  of  southern  India  which  runs 
along  the  coast  of  Coromandel.  Its  length  is  500  miles,  and  its 
breadth  from  50  to  100,  and  it  belongs  to  the  East  India  Company. 
Hyder  Ali  and  the  Nabob  of  Arcot  were  neighbouring  princes,  — 
but  the  Nabob  held  his  power  from  the  Company.  The  Company 
lent  themselves  to  the  Nabob's  schemes  of  ambition,  the  object  of 
which  was  (as  usual),  to  enlarge  his  own  dominion  at  the  expense 
of  that  of  Hyder  Ali."  a  Plant  eyes ;  not  plantize. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  231 

cable  office.  I  Bu£  the  cabinet  council  of  English  r,ied- 
itors  |  would  not  suffer  their  Nabob  of  Arco*  to  signv 
the  treaty,  |  nor  even  to  give  to  a  prince',  |  at  leasZ  Ais 
equal,  1  the  ordinary  titles  of  respect,  and  courtesy.  | 
From  that  time  forward,  |  a  continued  plot'  was  car- 
ried on  within  the  divan,  |  blacA;,  and  white*,  I  of  the 
Nabob  of  Arcotf',  I  for  the  destruction  of  this  Hyder  Ali.  | 
As  to  the  outward  members  of  the  double,  |  or  rather 
treble  government  of  Madras,  |  which  had  signed  the 
treaty,  |  they  were  always  prevented  by  some  over- 
ruling influence  I  (which  they  do  not  describe,  |  but 
which  cannot  be  misunderstood)  I  from  performing  wha£ 
justice,  and  interest  combined  so  evidently  to  enforce.  | 

When  at  length  Hyder  Ali  |  found  that  Ae  had  to 
do  with  men  |  who  either  would  sign  no  convention,  | 
or  whom  no  treaty,  and  no  signature  could  bindx,  and 
who  were  the  determined  enemies  of  human  intercourse 
itself,  I  he  decreed  to  make  the  country  I  possessed  by 
these  incorrigible,  and  predestinated  criminals,  |  a  me- 
morable example  to  mankind.  |  He  resolved,  |  in  the 
gloomy  recesses  of  a  mind,  capacious  of  such  things,  ] 
to  leave  the  whole  Carnatic  |  an  everlasting  monument 
of  vengeance,  |  and  to  put  perpetual  desolation,  |  as  a 
barrier  between  him,  and  those  |  against  whom,  |  the 
faith  which  holds  the  moral  elements  of  the  world  to- 
gether, |  was  no  protection.  | 

He  became  at  length  so  confident  of  his  force,  1  and 
so  collected  in  his  mighz,  |  that  he  made  no  secret  what- 
ever |  of  Ais  dreadful  resolution.  I  Having  terminated 
his  disputes  with  every  enemy,  and  every  rival,  I  who 
buried  their  mutual  animosities  |  in  their  common  in- 
terest against  the  creditors  of  the  Nabob  of  ArcoZ,  I  he 
drew  from  every  quarter,  I  whatever  a  savage  ferocity  | 
could  add*  to  his  new  rudiments  in  the  art  of  destruc- 
tion ;  |  and,  compounding  all  the  materials  of  firry,  | 
hav'oc,  and  desola'tion,  |  into  one  black  cloud,  1  he  hung 
for  a  while  on  the  declivities  of  the  mountains.  |  Whilst 
the  authors  of  all  these  evils,  |  were  idly,  and  stupidly 


232  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

gazing  on  this  menacing  meteor  |  (which  blackened  all 
the  horizon)  |  it  suddenly  burs^,  |  and  poured  down  the 
whole  of  its  contents  I  upon  the  plains  of  the  Carnatic.  | 

Then  ensued  a  scene  of  wox ;  |  the  \ike  of  which  no 
eye  had  seen,  |  nor  heart  conceived,  |  and  which  no 
tongue  can  adequately  tell.  |  All  the  horrors  of  war, 
before  known,  or  heard'  of,  |  were  mer  cy  to  tha£  new 
hav.oc.  |  A  storm  of  universal  fire',  I  blasted  every 
fields  I  consumed  every  house,'  and  destroyed  every 
tem\ple.  |  The  miserable  inhabitants,  |  flying  from  their 
flaming  villages,  |  in  part,  were  slaughtered ;  |  others,  | 
without  regard  to  sex',  to  age',  to  rank',  or  sacredness 
of  function  —  |  fathers  torn  from  their  chiPdren,  |  hus- 
bands, from  wives1,  I  enveloped  in  a  whirlwind  of  cav'- 
alry,  |  and  amidst  the  goading  spears  of  dri'vers.  |  and 
the  trampling  of  pursuing  hor'ses,  |  were  swept  into 
captivity  |  in  an  unknown,  and  hostile  land.  I  Those 
who  were  able  to  evade  this  tempest,  fled  to  the  walled 
cities ;  I  but  escaping  from  fire',  sword',  and  exile,  |  they 
fell  into  the  jaws  of  famine. 

For  eighteen  months',  I  without  intermission,  |  this 
destruction  raged  from  the  gates  of  Madras  |  to  the 
gates  of  Tanjorev ;  I  and  so  completely  did  these  mas- 
ters in  their  art,  |  Hyder  Ali,  and  his  more  ferocious 
son,  |  absolve  themselves  of  their  impious  vow,  I  thaZ, 
when  the  British  armies  traversed,  as  they  did,  |  the 
Carnatic  for  hundreds  of  miles  in  all  directions,  I  through 
the  whole  line  of  their  march,  |  they  did  not  see  one 
man\,  I  not  one  womanx,  |  not  one  childv,  |  not  one  four- 
footed  beast'  of  any  description  whatever.  |  One  dead, 
uniform  silence  u  |  reigned  over  the  whole  region.  | 


DARKNESS. 

(BYRON.) 

I  had  a  drea.m  |  which  was  not  all'  a  dream —  , 
The  bright  sun  was  extinguished ;  I  and  the  stars 
Did  wander  darkling  in  the  eternal  space,  1 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  233 

Rayless,  and  pattvless  ;  I  and  the  icy  earth  | 
Swung  blind  and  blackening  in  the  moonless  air  .  | 
Morn  came,  and  wen^,  I  and  came,  and  brought  no  day*  ;| 
And  men  forgot  their  pas'sions  |  in  the  dread 
Of  this  their  desolation  ;  |  and  all  hearts 
Were  chill'd  into  a  selfish  prayer  for  lighZv.  | 

And  they  did  live  by  watcFT-fires  ;  |  and  the  thrones,  | 
The  palaces  of  crowned  kings'  —  I  the  huts',  | 
The  habitations  of  all  things  which  dwell',  | 
Were  burn'd  for  beavcons.   I   Cit'ies  were  consum'd*  ;  | 
And  men  were  gathered  round  their  blazing  homes  | 
To  look  once  more  into  each  other's  facev.  | 
Happy  were  they  |  who  dweU  within  the  eye 
Of  the  volcanoes,  I  and  their  mountain-torch.  | 
A  fearful  hope    |  was  all  the  world  contain'd  ;  | 
Fores/s  were  set  on  firex  ;  I  and  hour  by  hour 
They  fell  and  fa'ded  —  |  and  the  crackling  trunks    | 
Extinguish'd  with  a  crash',  —  I  and  all  was  blac&x.  | 

The  brows  of  men,  |  by  the  despairing  ligh*,  | 

Wore  an  unearthly  as'pec£,  |  as  by  f  ts 

The  flashes  fell  upon  them.   |   Some  lay  down,  | 

And  hid  their  eyes,  I  and  wepZx  ;  |  and  some  did  rest 

Their  chins  j  upon  their  clinched  hands,  I  and  smil'dv  ;  | 

And  others  hurried  to  and  fro,  I  and  fed 

Their  funeral  piles  with  fuel,  I  and  look'd  up 

With  mad  disquietude  I  on  the  dull  sky,  | 

The  pall  of  a  pas£  world^  ;  I  and  then  again 

With  curses,  I  cas*  them  down  upon  the  d\ist\  | 

And  gnash'd  their  teetlr,  I  and 


The  wild  birds  shriek'd,  | 
And,  terrified,  I  did  flutter  on  the  ground,  | 
And  flap  their  useless  wingSv  ;  I  the  wildest  brutes*  | 
Came  tame,  and  tremulous  ;  I  and  vipers  crawl'd,  | 
And  twin'd  themselves  among  the  multitude,  ! 
Hissing,  but  stintless.   I   They  were  slain  for  food^  ;  | 
And  war    |  which,  for  a  moment,  was  no  more,  I 
20* 


-234  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Did  glut"  7/imself  again :  |  a  meal  was  bough* 
With  blood'  ;  I  and  each  sat  sullenly  apar£  | 
Gorging  Aimself  in  glooms.  | 

No  love'  was  left ;  | 

All  earth  was  but  one  thought ;  |  and  thai  was  deat,hv,  , 
Immediate,  and  inglorious ;  I  and  the  pang 
Of  famine  I  fed  upon  all  entrails.    |   Men 
Died,  |  and  their  bones  were  tombless  as  their  fleslr ;  j 
The  meager  by  the  meager  were  devour'^.  | 
E'en  dogs'  assail'd  their  masters ;  |  all,  save  one,  | 
And  he  was  faithful  to  a  corse,  |  ant?  kept 
The  birds,  and  beasts,  |  and  famish'd  men  at  bay',  | 
Till  hunger  clung  them,  |  or  the  dropping  dead 
Lured  their  lanA;  jawsv.   I   Himself  sought  out  nox  food,  j 
Bui  with  a  piteous,  and  perpetual  moan,  | 
And  a  quic&,  desolate  cry,  |  licking  the  hand 
Which  answer'd  not  with  a  caress,  |  he  diedx.  | 

The  crowd  was  famish'd  by  degreesx ;  |  but  two 

Of  an  enormous  city,  I  did  survivev ;  | 

And  they  were  enemies.   |   They  met  beside 

The  dying  embers  of  an  altar-place,  | 

Where  had  been  heap'd  a  mass  of  holy  things  | 

For  an  unholy  u'sage :  |  they  rak'd  up, 

And,  shivering,  scrap'd  with  their  cold  skeleton  hands,  | 

The  feeble  aslres,  I  and  their  feeble  breath  | 

Blew  for  a  little  life,  I  and  made  a  flame  | 

Which  was  a  mocLery.   |   Then  they  lifted  up 

Their  eyes  as  \t  grew  lighter',]  and  beheld 

Each  other's  as'pecZs —  |  saw, |  and  shriek'd',  |  and  died\ ;  j 

E'en  of  their  mutual  hid'eousness  they  died,  | 

Unknowing  who  he  was  |  upon  whose  brow  ] 

Famine  had  written  fiend .  j 

The  world  Was  void^ ;  | 
The  populous,  and  the  powerful  was*  a  lump,  | 

*  Some,  being1  anxious  to  correct  what  is  already  right,  have 
substituted  were  for  was. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  235 

Sea^sonless,  I  herbJess,  |  treeless,  |  man'less,  |  lifejess —  j 

A  lump  of  deatlr —  |  a  chaos  of  hare?  clayv.  | 

The  rivers,  lakes',  and  o'cean,  I  all  stood  still ;  | 

And  nothing  stirr'd  within  their  silent  depths^.  | 

Ships,  sai'lorless,  I  lay  rotting  on  the  seav ;  | 

And  their  masts  fell  down  piecev-meal ;  as  they  dropp'd,| 

They  slep£  on  the  abyss,  without  a  surge .  —  | 

The  waves  were  deadv ;  |  the  tides  were  in  their  grave\, —  | 

The  moon,  their  mistress,  |  had  expired  beforex ;  | 

The  winds  were  withered  in  the  stagnant  air ; 

And  the  clouds  perish'd.  —  |  Darkness  had  no  need 

Of  aid  from  theniv  —  I  she  ..  was  the  universe.  I 


(ADDISON.) 
Lucius,  Sempronius,  and  Senators. 

Semp.  Rome  still  survives  in  this  assembl'd  senate !  | 
Let  us  remember  we  are  Ca'to's  friends,  | 
And  ac£  like  men  who  claim  tha£  glorious  title.  | 

Luc.  Cato  will  soon  be  here*,  !  and  open  to  us 
The  occasion  of  our  meeting.   |   Har&  !  )  Ae  comesx !  | 

[Flourish  ofTrumpets. 

May  all  the  guardian  gods  of  Rome  direct  him !  | 
[Enter  CATO.] 

Cato.  Fathers,  we  once  again  are  me£  in  coun\cil —  j 
Caesar's  approach  has  summon'd  us  together ;  | 
And  Rome  attends  Aer  fate  from  our  resolvesx.  | 
How  shall  we  treaZ  this  bold  aspiring  manx  ?  | 
Success  still  follows  Aim,  I  and  backs  Ais  crimes^ :  | 
Pharsalia  gave  Aim  Rome' ;  I  Evgyp£  has  since 
Receiv'd  Ais  yoke ;  I  and  the  whole  Nile'  is  Caesar's.  | 
Why  should  I  mention  Juba's  overthrow,  | 
And  Scipio's  death\  ?   |   Numidia's  burning  sands 
Still  smo/te  with  bloods    I   'T  is  time  we  should  decree 
Wha£  course  to  ta&e.   !  Our  foe  advances  on  us,  | 
And  envies  us  e'en  Libya's  sultry  desverts. 


236  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Fathers,  1  pronounce  your  thoughts^ —  |  are  they  still  fix£| 
To  hold  it  out,  |  and  fight  it  to  the  lasZ'  ?  J 
Or  are  your  hearts  subdu'd  at  length,  |  and  wrought 
By  time,  and  ill  success,  |  to  a  submission  ?  j 
Sempronius,  spea&.  | 

Semp.  My  voice  is  still  for  war.  | 

Can  a  Roman  senate  long  debate  | 
Which  of  the  two  to  choose —  |  slav'ry,  or  death'?  | 
No^  —  |  let  us  rise  at  onces  |  gird  on  our  swords',  j 
And,  at  the  head  of  our  remaining  troops,  ] 
Attac/t  the  foes  |  breaA;  through  the  thicA:  array  | 
Of  his  throng'd  legions,  |  and  charge  home'  upon  Mm :  | 
Perhaps  some  arm,  more  lucky  than  the  rest, } 
May  reach  Ms  hear^,  |  and  free  the  world  from  bondage.! 
Rises  fathers,  |  rise' !  |  'T  is  Romex  demands  your  help;  j 
Rise,  and  revenge  her  slaughter'd  citizens,  | 
Or  share  their  fate* !   I   The  corpse  of  half  Aer  sen'ate,  j 
Manure  the  fields  of  Thessaly,  |  while  we 
Si*  here  |  deliberating  in  cold  debates,  | 
Whether  to  sacrifice  our  lives  to  honour,  I 
Or  wear  them  out  in  servitude,  and  chain's*.  | 
Rouse  upv,  for  shame' !  |  our  brothers  of  Pharsalia  i 
Point  at  their  woundsx,  |  and  cry  aloud  —  I  to  bat'tle !  | 
Great  Pompey's  shade    |  complains  that  we  are  slow1 ;  | 
And  Scipio's  ghost  \  walks  unreveng'd'  amongst  us  !  | 

Cato.  Let  not  a  torrent  of  impetuous  zeal  | 
Transport  thee  thus  beyond  the  bounds  of  reason :  J 
True  fortitude  |  is  seen  in  grea£  exploits  | 
That  justice  warrants,  I  and  that  wisdom  guidesv —  J 
All  else  is  tow'ring  frenzy  and  distraction,  j 
Are  not  the  lives  of  those  I  who  draw  the  sword 
In  Rome's  defence,  I  intrusted  to  our  care  ?  | 
Should  we  thus  lead  them  to  a  field  of  slaughter,  | 
Mighz  not  the  impartial  world,  I  with  reason,  say,  | 
We  lavish'd  at  our  deaths  |  the  blood  of  thousands,  | 
To  grace  our  fall,  |  and  ma&e  our  ruin  glorious  ?  | 
Lucius,  |  we  next  would  know  what's  your'  opinion.  | 

Luc.  My  thoughts,  I  must  confess,|are  turn'd  on  peace.) 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  237 

Already  have  our  quarrels    fill'd  the  world 

With  widows,  and  with  orphans :  |  Scythia  mourns 

Our  guilty  wars,  |  and  earth's  remotest  regions  | 

Lie  half  unpeopled  by  the  feuds  of  Rome, —  | 

'T  is  time  to  sheathex  the  sword,  |  and  spare  mankind.  | 

It  is  not  Caesar,  |  but  the  gods',  my  fathers,  | 

The  gods  declare  againstx  us,    and  repel 

Our  vain  attempts.   I   To  urge  the  foe  to  battle,  1 

Prompted  by  blind  revenge,  and  wild  despair,  | 

Were  to  refuse  the  awards  of  prov'idence,a  | 

And  no*  to  rest  in  heaven's  determination.  | 

Already  have  we  shown  our  love  to  Rome,  —  | 

Now  ( let  us  show  submission  to  the  gods.  | 

We  took  up  arms,    not  to  revenge'  ourselves,  | 

But  free  the  convmon wealth :  j  when  this  end  fails,  | 

Arms  have  no  further  use.      Our  country's  cause,  | 

Thai  drew  our  swords,  jnow  wrests  them  from  our  hands,] 

And  bids  us  no*  delight  in  Roman  blood,  | 

Unprofitably  shed.   |   Whai  men  could  do,  | 

Is  done  already :  |  heaven,  and  earth  will  witness,  | 

If  Rome  must  fall,  |  thai  we  are  innocent  | 

Semp.  This  smooth  discourse,  and  mild  behaviour,  I  oft 
Conceal  a  trartor  —  |  something  whispers  me 
All  is  not  righ^  —  I  Cato,  beware  of  Lucius.  I 

[Aside  to  Cato. 

Cato.  Let  us  be  neither  rash  nor  diffident  —  | 
Immod'rate  valour  swells  into  a  faulix ;  1 
And  fear,  admitted  into  public  councils,  | 
Betrays  like  treason.   |   Let  us  shun  them  both.  | 
Fathers,  |  I  cannoi  see  that  our  affairs 
Are  grown   thus  desp'rate  —  I  we  have   bulwarks'1 

round  us :  j 

Within  our  walls,    are  troops,  inured  to  toil 
In  Afric's  heai,  I  and  season'd  to  the  sunv  —  | 
Numidia's  spacious  kingdom  lies  behind'  us,  | 
Ready  to  rise  at  its  young  prince's  call.  | 

;  not  prov'ur-dunce.  b  BAl'wftrks. 


~38  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

While  there  is  hope,  I  do  not  distrust  the  godsx ;  j 
But  Mva.it.  at  leasZ,  till  Caesar's  near  approach  | 
Force'  us  to  yield.    |   'T  will  never  be  too  late  | 
To  sue  for  chains,  |  and  own  a  conqueror.  | 
Why  should  Rome  fall  a  moment  ere  her  timev  1  \ 
Nox,  I  let  us  draw  her  term  of  freedom  out  \ 
In  its  full  length',  |  and  spin  it  to  the  las^  —  j 
So  shall  we  gain  still  one*  day's  Ifberty :  | 
And  let  me  perish,  I  but  in  Cato's  judgment,  | 
A  days  I  an  hour',  I  of  virtuous  liberty,  | 
Is  worth  a  whole  eternity  in  bondage.  | 

[Enter  MARCUS.] 

Marc.  Fathers,  this  moment,  as  I  watch'd  the  gate,  | 
Lodg'd  on  my  post,  I  a  her'ald  is  arriv'd 
From  Caesar's  cam// ;  I  and  with  Aim, comes  old  De'cius,| 
The  Roman  knigl^  —  I  he  carries  in  his  looks 
Impatience,  I  and  demands  to  spea&  with  Ca^to.  | 

Cato.  By  your  permission,  fathers  —  j  bid  him  enter.  | 

[Exit  Marcus. 

Decius  was  once  my  friendv ;  |  but  other  prospects 
Have  loos'd  those  ties,  |  and  bound  him  fast  to  Caesar,  j 
His  message  may  determine  our  resolves.  | 

[Enter  DECIUS.] 

Dec.  Caesar  sends  health  to  Ca'to.  | 

Cato.  Could  he  send  it 

To  Cato's  slaughter'd  friends,  I  it  would  be  welcome.  | 
Are  not  your  orders  to  address  the  sen'ate  ?  | 

Dec.  My  business  is  with  Ca'to.   |   Caesar  sees 
The  straits  to  which  you  're  driven ;  |  and,  as  he  knows 
Cato's  high  worth,  I  is  anxious  for  your  life.  | 

Cato.  My  life  is  grafted  on  the  fate  of  Rome'.  | 
Would  Ae  save  Cato,  I  bid  him  spare  his  country.  | 
Tell  your  dictator  thisv  —  I  and  tell  him  too,  I  Cato 
Disdains'  a  life  I  which  he  has  power  to  offer.  | 

Dec.  Rome,  and  her  senators    submit  to  Caesar ; ) 
Her  generals,  and  her  consuls    are  no  more,  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  239 

Who  check W  his  conquests,  I  and  denied  his  triumphs.  | 
Why  will  not  Ca'to  be  this  Caesar's  friend  ? 

Cato.  Those  very  reasons  thou  hast  urg'dx,  forbid  if.  | 
Dec.  Cato,  I  have  orders  to  expostulate, 
And  reason  with  you,  I  as  from  friend  to  friendv ;  I 
Think  on  the  storm  that  gathers  o'er  your  head,  , 
And  threatens  ev'ry  hour  to  burs^  upon  it ;  \ 
Still  may  you  stand  high  in  your  country's  hon'ours,  —  j 
Do  but  comply,  I  and  make  your  peace  with  Caesar,  I 
Rome  will  rejoice', !  and  cast  its  eyes  on  Cato,  | 
As  on  the  secxond  of  mankind. 

Cato.  No  more'  —  | 

I  must  not  think'  of  life  on  such  conditions.  | 

Dec.  Caesar  is  well  acquainted  with  your  virtues,  | 
And  therefore  sets  this  value  on  your  life.  | 
Let  him  but  know  the  price'  of  Cato's  friendship,  | 
And  name  your  terms.  | 

Cato.  Bid  Aim  disband  his  lexgions,  | 

Restore  the  commonwealth  to  liberty,  | 
Submit  his  actions  to  the  public  censure,  | 
And  stand  the  judgment  of  a  Roman  senate,  j 
Let  him  do  this1,  |  and  Cato  is  his  friend.  | 

Dec.  Cato,  the  world  talks  loudxly  of  your  wis'dom — | 
Cato.  Nay,  more*  —    though  Cato's  voice  |  was  ne'er 

employ 'd 

To  clear  the  guilty,  |  and  to  varnish  crimes,  | 
Myself  will  mount  the  rostrum  in  his  faVour,  | 
And  strive  to  gain  his  pardon  from  the  people.  | 
Dec.  A  style  like  this  becomes  a  con'queror.  | 
Cato.  Decius,  a  style  like  this,  becomes  a  Ro'man.  | 
Dec.  What  is  a  Roman  ,  that  is  Caesar's  foex  ? 
Cato.  Greater  than  Caesar :  j  he's  a  friend  to  virtue.  | 
Dec.  Consider,  Cato,  you  're  in  ITtica.  | 
And  at  the  head  of  your  own  little  senate ;  | 
You  don't  now  thunder  in  the  Capitol,  | 
With  all  the  mouths  of  Rome  to  second  you.  | 

Cato.  Le£  him  consider  tha£,  I  who  drives  us  hither.  J 
*T  is  Caesar's  sword'  has  made  Rome's  senate  little,  I 


240  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

And  thinn'd  its  ranks.   |   Alas  !  thy  dazzled  eye  \ 

Beholds  this  man  in  a  false  glaring  lighi,  | 

Which  conquest,  and  success'  have  thrown  upon  Aim :  | 

Didsi  thou  bui  view  him  right,  \  thou  'dsi  see  him  blacA 

With  murder,  |  treason,  I  sacrilege,  |  and  crimes',  | 

Thai  strike  my  soul  with  horror  but  to  namev  them,  j 

I  know  thou  look'si  on  me,  |  as  on  a  wretch  | 

Besei  with  ills,  |  and  cover'd  with  misfortunes ;  | 

Bui  n  millions  of  worlds'  | 

Should  never  buy  me  I  to  be  Me  thai  Csssar.  | 

Dec.  Does  Cato  send  this  answer  bacA;  to  Caesar,  | 
For  all  Ais  generous  cares,  and  proffer'd  friendship  ?  \ 

Cato.  His  cares  for  me,  are  insoleni,  and  vain'.  | 
Presumptuous  man !  I  the  gods'  take  care  of  Cato.  | 
Would  Cassar  show  the  greatness  of  7ns  soul,  I 
Lei  him  employ  his  care  for  these  my  friends' ;  | 
And  make  good  use  of  his  ill-gotten  power,  | 
By  sheltering  men  much  better  than  Aimself.  | 

Dec.  Your  high  unconquer'd  heari  |  makes  you  forgei 
You  are  a  man.   |   You  rush  on  your  destruction.  | 
But  I  have  done.   |   When  I  relaie  hereafter  ] 
The  tale  of  this  unhappy  embassy,  | 
All  Rome  ,  will  be  in  tears.  |  [Exit. 

Semp.  Cato,  we  than&'  thee.  j 

The  mighty  genius  of  immortal  Rome',  I 
Speaks  in  thy  voice :  |  thy  soul  breathes  lib'erty.  | 
Caesar  will  shrin/r  to  hear  the  words  thou  utter'si,  | 
And  shudder  in  the  midsi  of  all  Ms  conquesis.  | 

Luc.  The  senate  owes  its  gratitude  to  Cato  | 
Who,  with  so  greai  a  soul,  I  consults  its  safety,  j 
And  guards  ourv  lives,  I  while  he  neglects  Ais  own.  | 

Semp.  Sempronius  gives  no  thanks  on  this*  accouni.  I 
Lucius  seems  fond  of  life' ;  |  but  whai  is^  life  ?  | 
'T  is  noi  to  stalk  aboui,  |  and  draw  fresh  air 
From  time  to  time,  I  or  gaze  upon  the  sun  :  | 
'T  is  to  be  free'.   I   When  liberty  is  gone,  | 
Life  grows  insipid,  I  and  has  losi  its  relish.  I 
O  could  my  dying  hand  |  bui  lodge  a  sword 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  241 

In  Caesar's  bosom,  j  and  revenge  my  country,  | 
I  could  enjoy  the  pangs  of  deaths  | 
And  smile  in  agony  !  | 

Luc.  Others,  perhaps,  | 

May  serve  their  country  with  as  warm  a  zeal,  | 
Though  *t  is  not  kindled  into  so  much  rage.  | 

Semp.  This  sober  conduct  |  is  a  mighty  virtue 
In  luke-warm  patriots  !  j 

Cato.  Comex  —  no  more',  Sempronius,  | 
All  here  are  friends  to  Rome,  I  and  to  each  other  — ) 
Let  us  not  weaken  still  the  weaker  side  | 
By  our  divisions.  | 

Semp.  Cato,  my  resentments 
Are  sacrificed  to  Romex  —  1 1  stand  reprov'd.  | 

Cato.  Fathers,  't  is  time  you  come  to  a  resolve.  | 

Luc.  Cato,  we  all  go  into  your'  opinion  —  | 
Cassar's  behaviour  has  convinced  the  senate 
We  ought  to  hold  it  out  till  terms  arrive.  | 

Semp.  We  ought  to  hold  it  out  till  death' —  I  bu£,  Cato,| 
My  private  voice  is  drown'd  amidst  the  senate's.  ] ' 

Cato.  Then  let  us  rises  niy  friends7,  |  and  strive  to  fill 
This  little  interval,  I  this  pause  of  life,  I 
While  yet  our  liberty,  and  fates  are  doubtful,  | 
With  resolution,  |  friendship,  |  Roman  bra  Very,  | 
And  all  the  virtues  we  can  crowd  invto  it,  | 
Thai  heaven  may  say  it  ought  to  be  prolonged,  j 
Fathers,  farewell.  —  |  The  young  Numidian  prince* 
Comes  forward,  |  and  expects  to  know  our  counsels,  j 

THANATOPSIS.* 
(W.  C.  BRYANT.) 

To  him  who,  in  the  love  of  Nature,  |  holds 
Communion  with  Aer  visible  forms,  I  she  speaks 
A  various  language :  |  for  his  gayer  hours,  | 
She  has  a  voice  of  glad'ness,  |  and  a  smile, 


*  Thanatopsis  (Greek),  from  thanatos,  death,  and  opsis,  sight 
a  view  of  death. 

21  Q 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

And  eloquence  of  beairty  ;  ]  and  she  glides 
Into  his  darker  musings  |  with  a  mild 
And  gentle  sympathy  |  that  steals  away 
Their  sharpness,  |  ere  he  is  aware.  | 

When  thoughts 

Of  the  last  bitter  hour,  I  come  like  a  blight 
Over  thy  spirit  ;  ]  and  sad  images* 
Of  the  stern  ,  agony,6  |  and  shroud',  |  and  pall',  | 
And  breathless  dark/ness,  |  and  the  narrow  house',  | 
Make  thee  to  shudder,  |  and  grow  sick  at  heart,  | 
Go  forth  under  the  open  sky',  |  and  list 
To  Nature's  teachings,  |  while  from  all  around  —  | 
Earth',  and  her  wa'ters,  ]  and  the  depths  of  air'  —  | 
Comes  a  still  voice\  —  ! 

Ye£  a  few  days,    and  thee 
The  all-beholding  sun  |  shall  see  no  more'  | 
In  all  fas  course^  ;  I  nor  yet  in  the  cold  ground1,  | 
Where  thy  pale  form  |  was  laid  with  many  tears,, 
Nor  in  the  embrace  of  o'cean,  |  shall  exis£ 
Thy  image.    !  Earth  tha£  nourish'd  thee,  j  shall  claim 
Thy  growth  |  to  be  resolv'd  to  earth  again^  ;  | 
And,  lost  each  human  trace,  |  surrendering  up 
Thine  individual  being,  |  shalt  thou  go  | 
To  mix  for  ever  with  the  elements,  —  ) 
To  be  a  brother  to  the  insensible  rock\  \ 
And  to  the  sluggish  clodx  |  which  the  rude  swain  | 
Turns  with  fas  share,  |  and  treads  upon.  |  The  oak 
Shall  send  his  roots  abroad,  j  and  pierce  thy  mould.  I 


not  to  thy  eternal  resting-place,  | 
Shalt  thou  retire  alone\  —  |  nor  coulds£  thou  wish*  | 
Couch  more  magnificent  |  Thou  shalZ  lie  down  | 
With  patriarchs  of  the  infant  world  —  |  with  kings*,  | 
The  powerful  of  the  earth  —  |  the  wisex,  |  the  good',  | 
Fair  formsx,  |  and  hoary  seers'  of  ages  pasP,  \ 
All  in  one  mighty  sepulchre.  | 

a  Sad  images  ;  not  sad-dim'a-ges.     b  Stern  agony  ;  not  stern-nag' 
go-uj. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  243 

The  hills,  | 

Rock-ribb'd,  and  ancient  as  the  sun' ;  |  the  vales',  | 
Stretching  in  pensive  quietness  between* ;  | 
The  venerable  woods' ;  |  rivers  thaZ  move 
In  majesty,  |  and  the  tr complaining  brooks'  | 
Tha£  make  the  meadows  green* ;  |  and,  pour'd  round  all  j 
Old  ocean's  grey,  and  melancholy  waste',  j 
Are  but  the  solemn  decorations  all',  I 
Of  the  greaJ  tomb  of  manx.  | 

The  golden  sun*,  | 

The  placets,  |  all  the  infinite  host  of  heav'n,  | 
Are  shining  on  the  sad  (  abodesa  of  death,  | 
Through  the  still  lapse  of  ages.  |  All  that  tread 
The  glo&e  ,  |  are  bu* ,  a  handful6 1  to  the  tribes 
Tha£  slumber  in  its  bosom.      Take  the  wings 
Of  morn'ing,  |  and  the  Barcon  dessert  l  pierce\,  | 
Or  lose  thyself  in  the  continuous  woods'  | 
Where  rolls  the  Or'egon,  |  and  hears  no  sound,  | 
Save  ^is  own  dash\ings  —  |  yet  the  dead  are  therev ;  [ 
And  millions  in  those  solitudes,  |  since  first 
The  flight  of  years  began,  |  have  laid  them  down 
In  their  las£  sleep*  —  |  the  dead  reign'  there,  alonev.  | 

So  shalt  thou'  rest  —  ]  and  \vha£  if  thou  shaU  fall,  | 
Unno'ticed  by  the  livdng ;    and  no  friend 
Take  note'  of  thy  departure  ?  |  All  tha*  breathe 
Will  share  thy  destiny.   |   The  gay  will  laugh 
When  thou  ar£  gone  ;  |  the  solemn  brood  of  care 
Plod  on',  |  and  each  one,  as  before,  |  will  chase 
His  favourite  phan*tom  —  |  ye£  all  these  |  shall  leave 
Their  mirth,  and  their  employments,  |  and  shall  come, 
And  ma&e  their  bed  with  thee.  | 

As  the  long  train 

Of  ages  glides  away,  |  the  sons  of  men',  | 
The  youth  in  life's  green  spring,,  |  and  he  who  goes 
In  the  full  strength  of  years",  |  ma'tron  and  maid*,  | 

•  Sad  abodes ;  not  sad'der-bodes.  b  But  a  handful ;  not  butter  handful 


244  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

The  bow'd  with  age^,  ]  the  inTan*  |  in  the  smiles 
And  beauty  of  its  innocent  age  cut  off,a  | 
Shall  one  by  one  |  be  gather'3  to  thy  side,  \ 
By  those  who,  in  their  turn,  |  shall  follow  them.  I 

So  live,  |  tha£  when  thy  summons  comes  t  |  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan  I  thai  moves 
To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  [  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death,  I 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry-slave  at  nigh£x,  | 
ScourgW  to  Ais  dunxgeon,  j  but,  sustain'^,  and  sooth'd 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  \  approach  thy  grave,  | 
LiAe  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  Ais  couch 
AbouZ  AiTi,b  |  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams.  1 


SPEECH    OP    CICERO    AGAINST    VERRES. 

The  time  is  come,  fathers,  I  when  that  which  has 
long  been  wished  for,  |  towards  allaying  the  envy  your 
order  has  been  subject  to,  |  and  removing  the  imputa- 
tions against  trials,  |  is  effectually  put  into  your  power.  | 
An  opinion  has  long  prevailed,  I  not  only  here  at  home,  j 
but  likewise  in  foreign0  countries,  I  both  dangerous  to 
you,  |  and  pernicious  to  the  states  —  |  that,  in  prosecu- 
tions, !  men  of  wealth  are  always  safe',  |  however  clearly 
convicted.  I 

There  is  now  to  be  brought  upon  his  trial,  before 
you,  I  to  the  confusion,  I  hope,  |  of  the  propagators  of 
this  slanderous  imputation,  I  one  whose  life,  and  ac- 
tions |  condemn  him  in  the  opinion  of  all  impartial  per- 
sons ;  |  but  who,  according  to  his  own  reckoning,  |  and 
declared  dependence  upon  his  riches,  I  is  already  ac- 
quitted :  1 1  mean  Caius  Verres.  I 

I  demand  justice  of  you,  Fathers,  I  upon  the  robber 
of  the  public  treasury,  I  the  oppressor  of  Asia  Minor, 
and  PamphyHa,  I  the  invader  of  the  rights,  and  privi- 
leges of  Ro'mans,  |  the  scourge,  and  curse  of  Srcily.  | 

» Cut  off;  not  cut-toff'.     b  About  him ;  not  abow'tim.     c  F6r'rln. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  245 

If  that  sentence  is  passed  upon  him,  I  which  his  crimes 
deserve,  I  your  authority,  Fathers,  j  will  be  venerable, 
ant/  sa'cred  in  the  eyes  of  the  public ;  |  but,  if  his  great 
riches  should  bias  you  in  his  favour,  |  I  shall  still  gain 
onex  point, —  |  to  make  it  apparent  to  all  the  world,  | 
that  what  was  wanting  in  this  case,  |  was  not  a  crimi- 
nal, |  nor  a  prosecutor;  |  but  justice,  and  adequate 
punishment.  | 

To  pass  over  the  shameful  irregularities  of  his  youth,  | 
what  does  his  quaes'torship,  |  the  first  public  employ- 
ment he  held,  I  what  does  it  exhibit,  I  but  one  continued 
scene  of  viHanies?  I  Cneius  Carbo,  1  plundered  of  the 
public  money  by  his  own  treasurer,  I  a  consul  stripped, 
and  betrayed',  |  an  army,  deserted,  and  reduced  to 
want1,  |  a  province,  robbed,  |  the  civil,  and  religious 
rights  of  a  people  violated.  | 

The  employment  he  held  in  Asia  Minor,  and  Pam- 
phyl'ia,  —  I  what  did  it  produce  but  the  nrin  of  those 
countries,  |  in  which  houses,  cities,  and  tenVples  were 
robbed^  by  him  ?  |  What  was  his  conduct  in  his  praex- 
torship  here  at  home?  I  Let  the  plundered  temples, 
and  public  works  neglects*/,  |  that  he  might  embezzle 
the  money  intended  for  carrying  them  on',  I  bear  wit- 
ness. |  How  did  he  discharge  the  office  of  a  judge'  ?  | 
Let  those  who  suffered  by  his  injus'tice,  answer.  | 

But  his  praetorship  in  Srcily,  |  crowns  air  his  works 
of  wickedness,  I  and  finishes  a  lasting  monument  to  his 
infamy.  |  The  mischiefs,  done  by  him  in  that  unhappy 
country,  I  during  the  three  years  of  his  iniquitous  ad- 
ministration, |  are  such,  that  many  years',  I  under  the 
wisest,  and  best'  of  praetors,  |  will  not  be  sufficient  to 
restore  things  |  to  the  condition  in  which  he  foundx 
them ;  |  for  it  is  notorious,  I  that,  during  the  time  of  his 
tyranny,  |  the  Sicilians  neither  enjoyed  the  protection 
of  their  own  original  laws ;  |  of  the  regulations  made 
for  their  benefit  by  the  Roman  senate,  I  upon  their 
coming  under  the  protection  of  the  commonwealth ; } 
nor  of  the  natural,  and  unalienable  rights  of  men.  J 
21* 


246  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

His  nocb  |  has  decided  all  causes  in  Sicily  |  for  these 
three  years.  |  And  his  decisions  I  have  broken  all  law%  | 
all  precedent,  |  all  right.  I  The  sums  he  has,  by  arbi- 
trary taxes,  |and  unheard-of  impositions,  extorted  from 
the  industrious  poor,  I  are  not  to  be  computed.  |  The 
most  faithful  allies  of  the  commonwealth,  |  have  been 
treated  as  enemies.  |  Roman  citizens,  like  slaves', 
have  been  put  to  death  with  tortures.  |  The  most 
atrocious  criminals  I  have  been  exempted,  for  money,  | 
from  deserved  punishments ;  |  and  men,  of  the  most 
unexceptionable  characters,  |  condemned,  and  banished, 
unheard.  | 

The  harbours,  though  sufficiently  fortified,  |  and  the 
gates  of  strong  towns',  I  have  been  opened  to  pirates, 
and  ravagers.  |  The  soldiery,  and  sailors,  |  belonging 
to  a  province  under  the  protection  of  the  commonwealth,! 
have  been  starved  to  death ;  |  whole  fleetsv,  |  to  the 
great  detriment  of  the  prov'ince,  suffered  to  perish,  j 
The  ancient  monuments  |  of  either  Sicilian,  or  Ro'man 
greatness,  I  the  statues  of  heroes,  and  prinvces,  |  have 
been  carried  off1 ;  |  and  the  temples  stripped  of  the 
images.  | 

Having,  by  his  iniquitous  sentences,  j  filled  the 
prisons  with  the  most  industrious,  and  deserving  of  the 
people,  |  he  then  proceeded  to  order  numbers  of  Roman 
citizens  j  to  be  strangled  in  the  jaita ;  I  so  that  the  excla- 
mation, |  "  I  am  a  citizen  of  Rome* !"  |  which  has  often, 
in  the  most  distant  regions,  |  and  among  the  most  bar- 
barous people,  |  been  a  protection,  I  was  of  no  service 
to  them ;  |  but,  on  the  contrary,  |  brought  a  speedier, 
and  more  severe  punishment  upon  them.  | 

I  ask  now,  Verres,  |  what  thou  hast  to  advance* 
against  this  charge?  I  Wilt  thou  pretend  to  deny'  it?  | 
Wilt  thou  pretend  that  any  thing  false*.  I  that  even  any 
thing  aggravated,  |  has  been  urged  against  thee  ?  I  Had 
any  princes  I  or  any  state',  I  committed  the  same  out- 
rage against  the  privilege  of  Roman  citizens,  |  should 
we  not  think  we  had  sufficient  ground  for  demanding 
satisfaction?  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  247 

What  punishment  ought,  then,  to  be  inflicted  |  upon 
a  tyrannical,  and  wicked  praetor,  I  who  dared,  at  no 
greater  distance  than  Srcily,  1  within  sight  of  the  Italian 
coast',  |  to  put  to  the  infamous  death  of  crucifixion,  | 
that  unfortunate,  and  innocent  citizen,  I  Publius  Gavius 
Cosa'nus,  |  only  for  his  having  asserted  his  privilege  of 
citizenship,  I  and  declared  his  intention  of  appealing  to 
the  justice  of  his  country,  j  against  the  cruel  oppressor  j 
who  had  unjustly  confined  him  in  prison  at  Syracuse,  j 
whence  he  had  just  made  his  escape?  | 

The  unhappy  man,  |  arrested  as  he  was  going  to  em- 
bark for  his  native  country,  |  is  brought  before  the 
wicked  prastor.  I  With  eyes  darting  fury,  I  and  a  coun- 
tenance distorted  with  cruelty,  I  he  orders  the  helpless 
victim  of  his  rage  to  be  stripped*,  |  and  rods'  to  be 
brought  —  |  accusing  him,  |  but  without  the  least  sha- 
dow of  evidence,  I  or  even  of  suspicion,  |  of  having  come 
to  Sicily  as  a  spy.  I  It  was  in  vain  that  the  unhappy 
man  cried  out,  |  "  I  am  a  Roman  citizen  —  |  I  have 
served  under  Lucius  Pre'tius  |  who  is  now  at  Panor- 
mus,  |  and  will  attest  my  innocence." 

The  blood-thirsty  praetor,  |  deaf  to  all  he  could  urge 
in  his  own  defence,  I  ordered  the  infamous  punishment 
to  be  inflicted.  I  Thus,  Fathers,  I  was  an  innocent  Ro- 
man citizen  I  publicly  mangled  with  scourging;  |  while 
the  only  words  he  uttered,  |  amidst  his  cruel  sufferings, 
were,  |  "  I  am  a  Roman  citizen !"  I  With  these  t  he 
hoped  to  defend  himself  I  from  violence,  and  infamy.  | 
But  of  so  little  service  was  this  privilege  to  him,  |  that, 
while  he  was  thus  asserting  his  citizenship,  |  the  order 
was  given  for  his  execution,  —  I  for  his  execution  upon 
the  crossx !  | 

O  liberty  ! —  |  O  sound  once  delightful  to  every  Ro 
man  ear  !  |  O  sacred  privilege  of  Roman  citizen- 
ship!  —  |  once'  sacred !  —  |  now  tranvpled  upon  !  —  | 
But  what  them  !  |  Is  it  come  to  this'  ?  I  Shall  an  infe- 
rior magistrate,  I  a  governor,  |  who  holds  his  whole 
power  of  the  Roman  people,  |  in  a  Roman  province,  j 


248  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

within  sight  of  Italy,  j  bind,  scourge,  torture  with  fire, 
and  red  hot  plates  of  iron,  I  ana7  at  last  put  to  the  infa- 
mous death  of  the  cross,  |  a  Roman  citizen  ?  |  Shall 
neither  the  cries  of  innocence  expiring  in  ag^ony,  1  nor 
the  tears  of  pitying  spectators,  I  nor  the  majesty  of  the 
Roman  conVmonwealth,  !  nor  the  fear  of  the  justice  of 
his  counvtry,  restrain  the  licentious,  and  wanton  cruelty 
of  a  monster ,  |  who,  in  confidence  of  his  riches,  |  strikes 
at  the  root  of  liberty,  |  and  sets  mankind  at  defrance  ? 
I  conclude  with  expressing  my  hopes,  I  that  your 
wisdom,  and  justice,  Fathers,  |  will  not,  by  suffering  the 
atrocious,  and  unexampled  insolence  of  Caius  Verres  j 
to  escape  due  punishment,  I  leave  room  to  apprehend 
the  danger  of  a  total  subversion  of  authority,  |  and  the 
introduction  of  general  anarchy,  and  confusion,  j 


CATO'S    SOLILOQUY. 

(ADDISON.) 

SCENE  —  CATO  sitting  in  a  thoughtful  posture,  with  Plato's  book 
on  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  in  his  hand ;  and  a  drawn  sword 
on  the  table  by  him. 

It  mus^  be  so  —  I  Plato,  thou  reasonesZ  well !  —  | 

Else  whence  this  pleasing  hopes  I  this  fond  desire*,  | 

This  longing  after  immortality  1  \ 

Or  whence  this  secret  dread,  |  and  inward  horror,  | 

Of  falling  into  nought  ?  I  why  shrinks  the  soul  | 

BacA;  on  herself,  |  and  star'tles  at  destruction  ?  | 

'T  is  the  divin-ity  thai  stirs  within  us;  I 

*T  is  heaven  itself  I  thai  points  out  an  hereafter,  | 

And  intimates  eter\nity  to  man.  j 

Eternity !  j  thou  pleas'ing,  dreadvful  thought !  1 
Through  whai  variety  of  untried  beting,  ] 
Through  whai  new  scenes,  and  changes  must  we  passv !  J 
The  wide',  the  unbounded  prospect  lies  before  me ;  j 
But  shad'ows,  clouds',  and  darkness  res^  upon  it.  \ 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  249 

Here  will  I  holrf .   ]   If  there 's  a  power  above  us,  | 

Anc?  thai  there  is  |  all  nature  cries  alouc? 

Through  all  her  works,  |  he  must  delighi  in  virtue ;  | 

Anc?  thai  which  he  delights  in,  I  musi  be  happy.  | 

Bui  when* !  |  or  wherex !  —  I  this  work?  was  made  for 

Caesar.  | 
1  'm  weary  of  conjectures  —  I  this  musi  end,  them.  | 

[Laying  his  hand  on  his  sword. 

Thus  am  I  doubly  arm'd:  I  my  death,  anc?  life*,  | 
My  bane',  anc?  anxtidoie  |  are  both  before  me : ) 
This  in  a  moment  brings  me  to  an  end* ;  | 
Bui  this  informs  me   I  shall  never  die*.  ! 

The  soul,  secures?  in  7*er  existence,  |  smiles 

At  the  drawn  dagger,  |  anc?  defies  its  point.  \ 

The  stars  shall  fade  away*,  |  the  sun  Aimself 

Grow  dim  with  agex,  I  anc?  nature  sink  in  yearsx ;  | 

Bui  thou  shali  flourish  in  immortal  youth',  | 

Unhuri  amidst  the  war  of  el'ements,  | 

The  wrecA  of  mat'ter,  |  anc?  the  crush  of  worlds^.  | 

HAMLET'S  SOLILOQUY. 

(SHAKSPEARE.) 

To  be,  —  or  noi'  to  be  —  |  thai'  is  the  question :  \ 

Whether  't  is  nobler  in  the  mind  |  to  suffer 

The  slings,  anc?  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune ;  | 

Or  to  take  arms  againsi  a  sea  of  troubles,  | 

Anc?,  by  opposing,  end*  them?  |  To  die'  —  to  sleep* —  | 

No  more*  —  |  anc?,  by  a  sleep,  |  to  say  we  end 

The  heart-ache,  j  anc?  the  thousanc?  natural  shocks  | 

Thai  flesh  is  heir  to :  |  't  is  a  consummation 

Devoutly  to  be  wish'd.  | 

To  die7  —  to  sleep*  —  | 

To  sleep'/ 1  perchance  to  dreanr — |  ay,  there 's  the  ru6  ;  | 
For,  in  thai  sleep  of  death,  |  whai  dreams  may  come,  j 
When  we  have  shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil,a 

a  Stir,  bustle. 


'-J50  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION 

MusZ  give  us  pausev.  |  There 's  the  respect  | 

Tha£  makes  calamity  of  so  long  life' :  | 

For  who  would  bear  the  whips,  and  scorns  of  time*,  j 

The  oppressor's  wrongv,  |  the  proud  man's  contumely ,b  j 

The  pangs  of  despised  lovev,  |  the  law's  delayv,  | 

The  insolence  of  office,  |  and  the  spurns/ 

Tha£  patient  meri£  of  the  unworthy  takes,  | 

When  he  Aimself  might  his  quietus  ma&e  | 

With  a  bare  bodvkin  ?c  | 

Who  would  fardelsd  bear,  | 
To  groan,  and  sweaZ  under  a  weary  life,  | 
But  that  the  dread  of  something  after  death  | 
^ThaZ  undiscover'd  country    from  whose  bourn6 
No  traveller  returnsx),  2puzzles  the  will ;  | 
And  makes  us  rather  bear  those  ills  we  havex,  | 
Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of  ?  | 

Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all* ;  | 
And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution,  | 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought  ;  | 
And  enterprises  of  greaZ  pith,  and  moment,  | 
With  this  regard,  I  their  currents  turn  awryv,  I 
And  lose  the  name  of  action.  I 


BRUTUS*    ORATION   ON    THE    DEATH   OF    CAESAR. 

(SHAKSPEARE.) 

Ro'mans,  coun'trymen,  and  lov\ers !  |  hear  me  for 
my  causes  I  and  be  si'lenZ  |  that  you  mayv  hear.  |  Be- 
lieve me  for  mine  hon^ourf;  !  and  have  respect  unto 
mine  honour  j  tha£  you  mayv  believe.  |  Censure  me  in 
your  wisdom ;  and  awa&e  your  sen'ses  |  thai  you  may 
the  better  judge.  | 

» Consideration.  b  K6n'tu-me-lfe,  rudeness.  c  The  ancient  term 
for  a  small  dagger.  d  Packs,  burdens.  e  B6rn,  boundary,  limit. 
•  Mine  honour  ;  not  mine-non'nur. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  -251 

If  there  be  any  in  this  assembly,  |  any  dear  friend  ol 
Caesar's,  |  to  him  I  say  |  thai  Bru'tus'  love  to  Caesar,  j 
was  no  less  than  his.  |  If,  then,  thai  friend  demand  J 
why  Brutus  rose  against  Caesar,  j  this  is  my  answer  :  I 
Noi  that  I  loved  Caesar  ,  less,11  |  but  that  I  loved  Rome  , 
more.  |  Had  you  rather  Caesar  were  living,  I  and  die 
all  slaves',  I  than  thai  Caesar  were  dead,  |  and  live  all 
free'men  ?  | 

As  Caesar  loved  me,  |  I  weepv  for  him ;  |  as  he  was 
fortunate,  1 1  rejoice'  at  it ;  \  as  he  was  valiani,  |  I  hon-- 
our  him ;  I  bui,  as  he  was  ambitious,  1 1  slew*  him.  \ 
There  are  tears'  for  Ms  love*,  I  joy'  for  his  for 'tune,  | 
hon'our  for  Ais  valour,  I  and  death  for  his  ambition.  | 

Who  is  here  so  base  thai  [he]b  would  be  a  bondx- 
man?  |  If  any,  I  speaA;*;  I  for  him  have  I  offended.  | 
Who  is  here  so  rude  I  thai  [he]  would  noi  be  a  Roxman?  j 
If  any,  I  spea.L ;  |  for  hinv  have  I  offended.  I  Who  is  here 
so  vile  |  thai  [he]  will  noi  love  his  country  1  \  If  any,  | 
speaks*  |  for  him'  have  I  offended.  |  I  pause  for  a 
reply.  | 

None' !  I  Then  nonev  have  I  offended.  |  I  have  done 
no  more  to  Caesar,  |  than  you  should  do  to  Brutus.  | 
The  question  of  his  death  I  is  enrolled  in  the  Ca'pitol;  j 
his  glory  noi  extenuated,  |  wherein  he  was  worthy ;  j 
nor  his  offences  enforced',  |  for  which  he  suffered 
death.  | 

Here  comes  Ais  body,  I  mourned  by  MarA:  An\tony  | 
who,  though  he  had  no  hand  in  his  death,  shall  re- 
ceive the  ben'efii  of  his  dying,  —  |  a  place  in  the  conv- 
monwealth  :  I  as  which  of  you'  shall  noi  ?  \  With  this, 
I  depart :  |  Thai,  as  I  slew  my  besi  lover  for  the  good 
of  Rome,  I  I  have  the  same  dagger  for  myself,  |  when 
it  shall  please  my  country  |  to  need*  my  death.  | 

•Caesar  less;  not  Cce'sar-less.  bThe  words  in  brackets  are  not 
in  the  original ;  they  are  introduced  to  make  the  language  good 
English. 


252  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

ANTONY'S  ORATION  OVER  CAESAR'S  PODY. 

(SHAKSPEARE.) 

Friends',  Ro'mans,  countrymen!  1  lend  me  your  ears,  j 
I  come  to  buVy  Caesar,  I  not  to  praise*  him.  j 
The  evil  thai  men  do,  |  lives  after  them ;  | 
The  good  |  is  oft  interred  with  their  bonesx :  | 
So  let  it  be  with  Caesar.    I   The  noble  Brutus 
Hath  told  you,  |  Caesar  was  ambitious.  | 
If  ii  were  so,  lit  was  a  grievous  faul^ ;  | 
And  grievously  hath  Ccesar  anvswer'd  it.  \ 
Here,  under  leave  of  Brutus,  and  the  resi,  I 
(For  Brutus  is  an  honourable  man;  | 
So  are  they  all,  |  all  honourable  men)  j 
Come  I  |  to  spea/c  in  Caesar's  funeral.  | 

He  was  my  friendv,  |  faithful,  and  jusiv  to  me.  | 

Bui  Brutus  (  says,  he  was  ambitious ;  | 

And  Brutus  is  an  honourable  man.  | 

He  hath  brought  many  cap'tives  home  to  Rome,  | 

Whose  ransoms  did  the  general  coffers  fill :  | 

Did  this  in  Caesar  seem  ambi'tious  ?  | 

When  that  the  poor  have  cried,  I  Caesar  hath  weptf.  J 

Ambition  should  be  made  of  sterner  stuff.  | 

Yei  Brutus  says,  he  wasx  ambitious ;  | 

And  Brutus  is  an  honourable  man.  ] 

You  all  did  see  I  thai,  on  the  Lupercal,a  | 

I  thrice  presented  him  a  kingly  crown\  | 

Which  he  did  thrice  refuse.   I   Was  thisx  ambition  ?  | 

Yei  Brutus  says,  he  was  ambitious ;  | 

And  Brutus  is  an  honourable  man.  | 

I  speak  not  to  disprove  whai  Brutus  spoAe ;  | 

Bui  here  I  am  to  speaA;  whai  I  do  know.  | 

You  all  did  love  him  once,  |  noi  without  cause*,  | 

Whai  cause  withholds  you  then  to  mournx  for  Aim  ?  I 

O  judgment/  j  thou  ari  fled  to  brutish  beasisv;  | 


*  Lupercalia,  solemn  sacrifices,  and  plays,  dedicated  to  Pan,  kept 
the  15th  of  February. — CICERO. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  253 

And  men  have  \ost  their  reason  !   I  Bear  with  me  ;  | 
My  heart  is  in  the  coffin  there  with  Cosvsar ;  | 
And  I  must  pause  till  it  come  bacfc  to  me.  | 

Bu£  yesterday,  I  the  word  of  Caesar  (  might 

Have  stood  against  the  world' :  I  now  lies  he  there' ;  | 

And  none  so  poora  to  do  him  reverence.  | 

0  masters  1  |  if  I  were  disposed  |  to  stir 
Your  hearts  and  minds  to  mutiny  and  rage,  | 

1  should  do  Brutus  wrongv,  |  and  Cas'sius  wrong,  j 
Who,  you  all  know,  I  are  honourable  men.  | 

I  will  not  do  thenr  wrong ;  |  I  rather  choose 

To  wrong  the  dead',  |  to  wrong  myself,  and  you',  | 

Than  I  will  wrong  such  honourable  men.  | 

"But  here's  a  parch'mentf,  |  with  the  seal  of  Caesar,  j 

I  found  it  in  his  clos'eZ :  j  't  is  his  will.  | 

Le£  but  the  commons  hear  this  testament ;  | 

(Which,  pardon  me,  I  do  not  mean  to  read)  | 

And  they  would  go,  and  kiss  dead  Caesar's  wounds*,  j 

And  dijo  their  napkins  in  his  sacred  blood* ;  | 

Yea,  beg  a  hair  of  Aim  for  memory,  | 

And,  dying,  mention  it  within  their 

Bequeathing  it,  as  a  rich  legacy, 

Unto  their  issue.  | 

If  you  have  tears,  |  prepare  to  shed  them  now.  | 

You  all  do  know  this  mangle :  1 1  remember 

The  first  time  ever  Caesar  put  it  onv ;  | 

'T  was  on  a  summer's  eve'ning,  |  in  his  tent\ :  | 

Thai  day  he  overcame  the  NerViib  —  | 

Loo/r!  |  in  this  place,  ran  Cassius'  dag-ger  through:  | 

See  wha£  a  rent  the  envious  Casvca  ,  made :  [ 

Through  this,  |  the  well-beloved  Bru'tus  (  stabb'd> ;  | 

And  as  he  pluck'd  his  cursed  steel  away,  | 

MarA  how  the  blood  of  Caesar  follow'd  it !  \ 

This  was  the  mosZ  unkindesi  cut  of  all ;  | 

For  when  the  noble  Caesar  saw  him  sta6,  | 

•  The  meanest  man  is  now  too  high  to  do  reverence  to  Caesar. 
JOHNSON. 

22 


254  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Ingratitude,  I  more  strong  than  traitor's  arms,  | 
Quite  vanvquish'd  him.  \ 

Then  burs*  7«is  mighty  heariv/j 
And,  in  Ais  mantle  muffling  up  his  face,  | 
E'en  ai  the  base  of  Pompey's  statue,  I 
(Which  all  the  while  ran  blood  /)  greai  Caesar  fell.  | 
O  whai  a  fall  was  there',  my  countrymen !  | 
Then  Iy,  |  and  you\  |  and  alb  of  us,  fell  down*,  | 
Whilst  bloody  treason  flourished1  over  us.  | 

0  now  you  weep;  |  and  I  perceive  you  feel 
The  dint  of  pity.   I   These  are  gravcious  drops.  I 
Kind,  souls  !  |  whaiv  /  |  weep  you  when  you  but  behold 
Our  Caesar's  ves'ture  wounded  ?   \   Loo/:  you  herev !  | 
Here  is  Aimself ,  I  marr'd,  as  you  see,  by  traitors.  | 

Goodx  friends,  |  sweeix  friends !  I  lei  me  not  stir  you  up 
To  such  a  sudden  flood  of  mutiny  —  | 
They  that  have  donex  this  deed,  j  are  honourable !  | 
Whai  private  griefs  they  have,  I  alas  !  I  know  noi,  | 
Thai  made'  them  do  it — |  they  are  wise  and  honourable:  I 
And  will,  no  doubi,  with  reasons  answer  you !  | 

1  come  not,  friends,  to  steal  away  your  hearts :  | 
I  am  no  orator,  as  Brutus  is ;  | 

Bui,  as  you  know  me  all,  I  a  plain,  bluni  man,  I 

Thai  love  my  friendx ;  I  and  thai  they  know  full  weir,  | 

Thai  gave  me  public  leave  to  speaA;  of  him.  | 

For  I  have  neither  wii',  nor  words',  nor  worths  | 
Ac'tion,  nor  utterance,  I  nor  power  of  speech',  | 
To  stir  men's  bloodv :  1 1  only  spea&  righi  oir.  | 
I  tell  you  thai  which  you  yourselves^  do  know\ ;  | 
Show  you  sweei  Caesar's  wounds',  I  poor,  poor,  dumb 

mouths*,  j 

And  bid  them  speak  for  me.   1   Bui,  were  I  Brutus, 
And  Brutus  Antony,  |  there  were  an  Antony  | 
Would  ruffle  up  your  spirits,  I  and  put  a  tongue 
In  every  wound  of  Caesar,  |  thai  should  move 
The  stones'  of  Rome  I  to  rise  in  mutiny.  | 

*  That  is,  flourished  the  sword.  —  STEEVENS. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  255 

WOMAN. 
(R.  H.  TOWNSEND.) 

Sylph  of  the  blue,  and  beaming  eye !  j 

The  Muses'  fondest  wreaths  are  thine*  —  | 
The  youthful  heart  beats  warm,  and  high,  | 

And  joys  to  own  thy  power  divine^ !  | 
Thou  shines*  o'er  the  flowery  path  | 

Of  youth ;  I  and  all  is  pleasure  there !  I 
Thou  soothes*  man,  |  whene'er  he  hath  | 

An  eye  of  gloonv  —  I  a  brow  of  care(.  | 

To  youth,  thou  art  the  early  morns  | 

With  "  ligh*,  and  melody,  and  song*,"  | 
To  gild  his  path' ;     each  scene  adorn',  | 

And  swiftly  speed  Ais  time  alongv.  | 
To  man,  thou  art  the  gift  of  HeaV'n,  | 

A  boon  from  regions  brigh*  above*; 
His  lo*,  how  dar/r,  |  had  ne'er  been  giv'n  | 

To  him  the  ligh*  of  woman's  lovet !  I 

When  o'er  Ais  dark'ning  brow,  |  the  storm  | 

Is  gath'ring  in  its  power,  and  migh*',  | 
The  radian*  beam  of  woman's  form',  | 

Shines  through  the  cloud',  and  all  is  ligh*' ! } 
When  dire  disease  prepares  her  wrath    | 

To  pour  in  terror  from  above',  | 
How  gleams  upon  his  gloomy  path',  I 

The  glowing  ligh*  of  woman's  lovev !  | 

When  all  around  is  clear,  and  bright,  | 

And  pleasure  lends  her  faires*  charm* ;  | 
And  man,  enraptur'd  with  deligh*',  | 

Feels,  as  he  views,  Ais  bosom  warm1,  I 
Why  glows  Ais  breas*  with  joy  profuse1,  j 

And  all  Ais  deeds,  Ais  rap'ture  prove*  ?  ] 
It  is,  because  the  scene  Ae  views'] 

Through  the  brigh*  rays  of  woman's  lovev ! ; 


256  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

O  woman !  |  thine  is  still  the  power,  | 

Denied  to  all  but  onvly  thee,  | 
To  chase  away  the  clouds  tha*  lower  (  | 

To  harass  life's  eventful  seav.  | 
Thou  ligh*  of  man^ !   |   his  on'ly  joy ,  | 

Beneath  a  wide,  and  boundless  skyv,  | 
Long  shall  thy  praise  fas  tongue  (  employ, 

Sylph  of  the  blue,  and  beaming  eyev !  I 


ODE   ON   THE   PASSIONS. 

(COLLINS.) 

When  Music,  heavenly  maid,  was  young,  | 
Ere  ye*  in  early  Greece*  she  sung,  | 
The  Passions  oft,  to  hear  her  shell,  | 
Throng'd  around  her  magic  cell,  | 
Exulting,  |  trembling,  |  ranging,  |  fainHng,  | 
Possess'd  beyond  the  Muse's  painting.  | 
By  turns  they  felt  the  glowing  mind  | 
Disturb'ds  I  delighted,  |  rais'ds  |  refinU  ;  j 
Till  once,  't  is  said,  when  alb  were  fired,  | 
FilPd  with  fu'ry,  |  rap^,  |  inspir'd^  | 
From  the  supporting  myrtles  round',  | 
They  snatch'd  her  instruments  of  sound* ;  j 
And,  as  they  oft  had  heard,  apart,  | 
SweeZ  lessons  of  her  forceful  art,  | 
Each  (for  Madness  rul'd  the  hour)  | 
Would  prove  his  own  expressive  power.  | 

First,  Fear,  |  his  hand,  its  skill  to  try,  | 

Amid  the  chords,  bewilder'd,  laid,  | 
And  back  recoil 'd,  |  he  knew  not  why*,  | 

E'en  at  the  sound  himself*  had  made.  | 
Nex£,  An'ger  rush'dx;  |  his  eyes  on  fire,  | 

In  lightnings  own'd  Ais  secret  stingSv ;  | 
In  one  rude  clash,  he  struck  the  lyre',  | 

And  swepZ,  with  hurried  hand,  the  stringy.  [ 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  257 

With  woxful  measures,  wan  Despair,  | 
Low  sullen  sounds  Ais  grief  beguil'dx ;  | 

A  solemn',  strange',  and  mirrgl'd  air :  | 

'T  was  sad  by  fits ;  I  by  starts,  't  was  wild,  | 

But  thou,  O  Hope !  with  eyes  so  fair,  | 
WhaZ  was  thyx  delighted  measure  ?  J 
Still  it  whisper'd  promised  pleasure,  | 
And  bade  the  lovely  scenes  a*  distance  hail !  j 

Still  would  her  touch  the  strain  prolong' ;  | 

And,  from  the  rocks',  |  the  woods',  I  the  vales  | 

She  call'd  on  echo  still,  through  all  the  song^ :  j 
And,  where  her  sweetest  theme  she  chose,  | 
A  soft,  responsive  voice  was  heard  at  every  close* ;  | 

And  Hope,  enchanted,  |  smil'd,  and  wav'dAer  golden  hair.) 

And  lon'ger  had  she  sung;  |  bu£,  with  a  frown,  | 

Revenges  impatient,  rose^ :  | 

He  threw  his  blood-stain'd  sword  in  thunder  down —  | 
And  with  a  withering  loo/c,  | 
The  war-denouncing  trunVpe^  tooA;,  | 
And  blew  a  bias*  so  loud,  and  dread,  | 
Were  ne'er  prophetic  sounds  so  full  of  wo« ; 
And  ever,  and  anon,  he  beat  \ 
The  doubling  drum  with  furious  hea& :  | 
And,  though,  sometimes,  each  dreary  pause  between,  | 
Dejected  Pity,  at  his  side,  I 
Her  soul-subduing  voice,  applied;  | 
Yef  still  he  kept  his  wild,  unalter'd  mien,  | 
While   each   strain'd  ball  of  sigh*,     seem'd  bursting 
from  his  head.  | 

Thy  numbers,  Jealousy,  to  nought,  were  fix'd —  | 

Sad  proof  of  thy  distressful  state  !  j 
Of  differing  themes  the  veering  song  was  mix'd* ;  ] 
And  now  if  courted  Lovex ;  I  now,  raving,  call'd  on 

Hate .  | 

With  eyes,  uprais'd,  as  one  inspired,  \ 
Pale  Melancholy  sa£  retir'd* ;  j 
22*  R 


258  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

And,  from  ^er  wild,  sequester'*/  sea^,  | 
In  notes  by  distance  made  more  swee£,  | 

Pour'd  through  the  mellow  horn  her  pensive  soul; 
And,  dashing  soft  from  rocks  around,  ] 
Bubbling  runnels  join'd  the  soundx ;  | 

Through  glades,  and  glooms,  the  mingl'd  measure  stole,) 
Or,  o'er  some  haunted  stream,  with  fond  delay,  j 
Round  a  holy  calm  diffusing,  | 
Love  of  peace,  and  lonely  musing,  | 
In  hollow  murmurs,  died  away.  | 

But,  O !  how  alter'd  was  its  spright'lier  tone,  | 
When  Cheerfulness,  |  a  nymph  of  healthiest  hue,  | 

Her  bow  across  ^er  shoulder  flung,  | 
Her  buskins  gemm'd  with  morning  dew,  | 

Blew  an  inspiring  air,  |  that  dale  and  thicket  rung*,| 

The  hunter's  call',  I  to  fawn  and  dryad  known.  I 
The  oak-crown'd  sisters,  and  their  chaste-ey'd  queen1, | 
Satyrs,  and  sylvan  boys'  were  seen,  | 
Peeping  from  forth  their  alleys  greeih —  | 
Brown  Exercise  rejoic'd*  to  hear ;  | 
And  Sport  leap'd  up,  and  seiz'd  his  beechen  spear.  1 

Las£  came  Joy's*  ecstatic  trial  —  | 

He,  with  viny  crown  advancing,  | 
Yirst  to  the  lively  pipe,  his  hand  addressed;   | 

Bu£  soon  7/e  saw  the  bris&,  awakening  vrol  I 
Whose  svseet,  entrancing  voice  he  lov'd  the  besL.  I 
They  would  /mve  thought,  who  heard  the  strain, 
They  saw  in  Tempo's  vale  her  native  maids,  | 
Amidst  the  festal-sounding  shades  | 

To  some  unwearied  minstrel  dan'cing,  | 
While,  as  7ns  flying  fingers  kiss'd  the  strings,  | 
Love  fram'd  with  Mirth,  a  gay,  fantastic  round* ;  | 
Loose  wrere  Aer  tresses  seen,  I  her  zone,  unbound ;  | 
And  he,  amidst  the  frolic  play,  | 
As  if  he  would  the  charming  air  repay',  | 
Shoo/*  thousand  odours  from  his  dewy  wingsv.  ; 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  259 


SPEECH    OF    PATRICK    HENRY. 

Mr.  Presviden£  —  |  It  is  natural  to  man  to  indulge 
in  the  illusions  of  hope.  We  are  ap£  to  shut  our  eyes 
against  a  painful  truth,  |  and  listen  to  the  song  of  tha£ 
syren  I  till  she  transforms  us  into  beasts.  I  Is  this  the 
part  of  wise  men,  I  engaged  in  a  greatf,  and  arduous 
struggle  for  lib'erty  ?  I  Are  we  disposed  to  be  of  the 
number  of  those  who,  having  eyes,  see  no^,  |  and  having 
ears,  hear  not  |  the  things  which  so  nearly  concern  their 
temporal  salvation?  |  For  my  part,  I  whatever  an- 
guish of  spirit  it  may  cost,  I  am  willing  to  know  the 
wholev  truth  —  to  know  the  wors£x,  I  and  to  provide* 
for  i*.  | 

I  have  but  one  lamp  by  which  myx  fee*  are  guided  ;  ] 
and  that  is  the  lamp  of  experience.  I  I  know  of  no  way 
of  judging  of  the  future,  !  but  by  the  pas^ :  |  and,  judg- 
ing by  the  pas£,  1 1  wish  to  know  |  wha£  there  has  been 
in  the  conduct  of  the  British  ministry  |  for  the  last  ten 
years'  |  to  justify  those  hopes  |  with  which  gentlemen 
have  been  pleased  to  solace  themselves,  and  the  house\?  | 
Is  it  that  insidious  smile  !  with  wrhich  our  petition  has 
been  lately  received'  ?  \  Trust  it  nofr,  sir  —  j  it  will 
prove  a  snare  to  your  fee£v :  |  suffer  not  yourselves  to  be 
betrayed  with  a  kiss.  | 

Ask  yourselves  |  how  this  gracious  reception  of  our 
petition,  |  comports  with  those  warli/re  preparations  | 
which  cover  our  waters,  |  and  darken  our  land.  |  Are 
fleets,  and  armies  I  necessary  to  a  work  of  love,  and 
reconcilia'tkm  ?  |  Have  we  shown  ourselves  so  unwil- 
ling to  be  reconciled,  |  that  force  must  be  called  in  I  to 
win  bacA;  our  love'  ?  |  Le£  us  no*  deceive*  ourselves, 
sir  :  |  these  are  the  implements  of  wars  I  and  subjuga'- 
tion  —  |  the  las*  arguments  1  to  which  kings  resort.  | 

I  asA:  gentlemen,  sir,  |  wha*  means'  this  martial  ar- 
ray |  if  its  purpose  be  not  to  force  us  to  submission  ?  | 
Can  gentlemen  assign  any  other  possible  motive  for  it?  [ 


260  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Has  Great  Britain*  any  enemy  in  this  quarter  of  the 
work/  |  to  call  for  all  this  accumulation  of  navies,  and 
armies  ?  I  Nox,  sir,  1  she  has  none'.  |  They  are  mean* 
for  usv :  |  they  can  be  meani  for  no  other.  |  They  are 
sent  over  to  bind,  and  rivet  upon  us  |  those  chains 
which  the  British  ministry  have  been  so  long  forging.  : 
And  what  have  we  to  oppose'  to  them  ?  I  Shall  we  try 
ar'gumeni  ?  \  Sir,  |  we  have'  been  trying  that  I  for  the 
last  ten  years*.  I  Have  we  any  thing  new  to  offer  upon 
the  subject  ?  \  Nothing.  ]  We  have  held  the  subject 
up  1  in  every  lighi  of  which  it  is  ca'pable  ;  |  but  it  has 
been  all  in  vain.  | 

Shall  we  resort  to  entreaty,  and  humble  supplica'- 
tion?  |  What  terms  shall  we  find,  which  have  not 
been  already  exhausted  ?b  \  Lei  us  noi,  I  beseech  you, 
sir,  |  deceive  ourselves  longer.  |  Sir,  |  W7e  have  done 
every  thing  thai  could'  be  done  J  to  avert  the  storm 
which  is  now  coming  on.  |  We  have  petitioned ;  |  we 
have  remon'strated ;  |  we  have  supplicated  ;  |  we  have 
prostrated  ourselves  before  the  throne1, 1  and  have  im- 
plored its  interposition  I  to  arresi  the  tyrannical  hands 
of  the  ministry,  and  parliament  |  Our  petitions  have 
been  sligh'ted;  |  our  remonstrances  I  have  produced 
additional  violence,  and  in'suli ;  |  our  supplications  have 
been  disregarded ;  I  and  we  have  been  spurned  with 
contempt,  I  from  the  foot  of  the  throne.  I 

In  vain,  after  these  things,  I  may  we  indulge  the  fond 
hope  of  peace,  and  reconciliation. —  I  There  is  no 
longer  any  room^  for  hope.  I  If  we  wish  to  be  free,  |  if 
we  mean  to  preserve  inviolate  those  inestimable  privi- 
leges |  for  which  we  have  been  so  long  contending,  |  if 
we  mean  not  basely  to  abandon  the  noble  struggle  |  in 
which  we  have  been  so  long  engaged,  |  'and  which  we 
have  pledged  ourselves  nev<er  to  abandon  I  until  the 
glorious  object  of  our  contest  shall  be  obtained',  1 2we 
must  fight !  \  I  repeat  ii,  sir,  I  we  must  fight !  \  An 
appeal  to  arms,  i  land  to  the  God  of  Hosis,  1 2is  all  that 
is  left  us.  | 

*  Brlt'in ;  not  Brlfn.  b  EgS-hist'fid ;  not  & 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  261 

They  tell  us,  sir,  I  tha*  we  are  wea&x,  —  I  unable  to 
cope  with  so  formidable  an  adversary.  I  Bu£  when 
shall  we  be  strong  er  ?  I  Will  it  be  the  nex£  weefc  —  j 
or  the  next  year'  ?  |  Will  it  be  when  we  are  totally 
disarmed ;  |  and  when  a  British  guard  shall  be  stationed 
in  every  house*  ?  I  Shall  we  gather  strength  by  irreso- 
lution, and  inac'tion?  I  Shall  we  acquire  the  means  of 
effectual  resistance  I  by  lying  supinely  on  our  backs,  | 
and  hugging  the  delusive  phantom  of  hope  I  until  our 
enemies  shall  have  bound  us  hand,  and  foot'  ?  \  Sir,  | 
we  are  no<*  weaA;  I  if  we  ma&e  a  proper  use  of  those 
means  |  which  the  God  of  nature  hath  placed  in  our 
power.  | 

4Three  millions  of  people,  1 3armed  in  the  holy  cause 
of  liberty,  I  2and  in  such  a  country  as  tha£  which  we 
possess,  |  4are  inviiVcible  |  under  any  force  which  our 
enemy  can  send  against  us.  I  2Besides,  sir,  I  we  shall 
not  fight  our  battles  alone* :  |  'there  is  a  jus£  Godx  |  who 
presides  over  the  destinies  of  nations  ;  1 2and  who  will 
raise  up  friends'  |  to  fight  our  battles  for  us.  The  bat- 
tle, sir,  |  is  not  to  the  strong  alone\ ;  I  it  is  to  the  vig*i- 
lant,  |  the  ac'tive,  I  the  brave(.  |  Besides,  sir,  |  we  have 
no  election.  |  If  we  were  base  enough  to  desire*  it,  \  it 
is  now  too  late  to  retire  from  the  contest.  |  There  is 
no  retread  I  but  in  submission,  and  slavery.  |  Oar  chains 
are  forged —  I  their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the 
plains  of  Boston.  I  The  war  is  inevitable ;  I  and  let  it 
come !  |  I  repeat  it,  sir  —  I  let  it  come  ! !  | 

It  is  in  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate  the  matter.  |  Gentle- 
men may  cry  peace !  peace !  |  but  there  is.  no  peace.  | 
The  war  is  actually  begun* !  |  The  next  gale  that 
sweeps  from  the  north,  |  will  bring  to  our  ears  the 
clash  of  resounding  arms\ !  I  Our  brethren  are  already 
in  the  field. !  |  Why  stand  we  here  idle  ?  |  What  is  it 
ihnt  gentlemen  wish*  ?  |  What  would  they  have*  ?  I  Is 
life  so  dear,  I  or  peace  so  swee£,  !  as  to  be  purchased  at 
the  price  of  chains,  and  sla'very?^  I  I  know  not  wha£ 
course  ottrers  may  ta&e ;  |  but,  as  for  me,  |  give  me 
liberty,  |  or  give  me  death^ !  j 


262  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


HYMN    TO    THE    DEITY    ON    A    REVIEW    OF   THE    SEASONS 

(THOMSON.) 

These,  as  they  change,  |  Almighty  Father,  |  these 
Are  but  the  varied  God.   I   The  rolling  year 
Is  fulb  of  thee.   |   Forth  in  the  pleasing  Spring  | 
Thy  beau'ty  walks,  |  thy  tenderness  and  love.  | 
Wide  flush  the  fields' ;  I  the  soft'ning  air  is  balm* ;  | 
Echo  the  mountains  roundv ;  |  the  forest  smiles* ;  | 
And  ev'ry  sense',  1  and  ev'ry  hear^  is  joy.  | 

Then  comes  thy  glo'ry  I  in  the  Sunrmer  months,  | 
With  light,  and  heat  refulgent   |   Then  thy  sun  | 
Shoots  Sill  perfection  through  the  swelling  yean ;  | 
And  oft  thy  voice  in  dreadful  thunder,  speaks ;  | 
And  oft  at  dawn',  j  deep  noon',  I  or  falling  eve',  | 
By  brooks,  and  groves,  |  in  hollow-whisp'ring  gales. 

Thy  bounty  shines  in  Autumn  unconfin'd%  | 
And  spreads  a  common  feast  for  all  tha£  lives.  | 
In  Winter,  awvful  thou !  I  with  clouds,  and  storms 
Aroundx  thee  thrown,  I  tempest  o'er  tempest  roll'dx,  | 
Majestic  darkness  !  |  on  the  whirlwind's  wing,  | 
Riding  sublime,  I  thou  bids£  the  world  adore';  j 
And  humblest  Nature  with  thy  northern  blas^.  | 

Mysterious  round  /  |  wha£  skill*,  j  what  force  divine , 
Deep  felt,  |  in  these,  appear* !  I  a  simple  train,  | 
Ye£  so  delightful  mix'd,  I  with  such  kind  art,*  | 
Such  beauty,  and  beneficence  combin'dv :  | 
Shade,  unperceiv'd,  so  soft'ning  into  shade',  | 
And  all  so  forming  an  harmonious  whole',  j 
That,  as  they  still  succeed,    they  rav'ish  still.  | 

BuZ,  wand'ring  oft,  with  brute  unconscious  gaze,  | 
Man  marks  not  theex,  I  marks  not  the  mighty  hand,  | 
That,  ever  busy,  |  wheels  the  silent  spheres^,  j 


Kind  art ;  not  kine  dart.  b  Sl'l&nt ;  not  silunt. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  263 

Works  in  the  secret  deep',  |  shoots,  steaming,  thence,  I 
The  fair  profusion  thai  o'erspreads  the  springv,  | 
Flings  from  the  sun  direct11  the  flaming  days  | 
Feeds  ev'ry  crea'ture,  I  hurls  the  tenrpesi  forth ;  | 
And,  as  on  earth  this  grateful  change  revolves,  | 
With  transport,  touches  all  the  springs  of  life.  | 

Nature,  attend  /  |  join  ev'ry  living  soul, 

Beneath  the  spacious  temple  of  the  sky',  | 

In  adoration,  join,  |  and  ardent  raise 

One  general  song !   |   To  him,  ye  vocal  gales,  | 

Breathe  soft*;  |\vhose  spirit  in  your  fresh\ness  breathes  :J 

O  tal/c  of  him  in  solitary  glooms^ !  | 

Where,  o'er  the  roc&,  |  the  scarcely  waving  pine  | 

Fills  the  brown  shade  with  a  religious  awe.c  | 

And  ye   whose  bolder  note  is  heard  afar',  | 

Who  sha/re  the  astonish'd  worldv,  1  lift  high  to  heaven 

The  impetuous  songv,  |  and  say  from  whom  you  rage,  j 

His  praise,  ye  brooksx,  attune/  |  ye  trembling  rilta,  | 

And  let  me  catch  it  as  I  muse  along.  I 

Ye  headlong  tor'rents,  |  rapid,  and  profound* ;  | 

Ye  softer  floods  |  thai  lead  the  humid  maze 

Along  the  vale1,  I  and  thou,  majestic  mainv,  1 

A  secret  world  of  wonders  in  thyself,  | 

Sound  Ms  stupendous  praise,  |  whose  greater  voice, ; 

Or  bids  you  roar',  1  or  bids  your  roarings  fal!4.  | 

Soft  roll  your  inxcense,|herbs/,and  fruits',  and  flow'rs*,  \ 
In  mingled  clouds  to  him  |  whose  sun  exalts' ;  | 
Whose  breath   perfumes^   you ;  I  and  whose  pencil 

paints^.  | 

Ye  forests,  bendx ;  I  ye  harvests,  wavex  to  him ;  | 
Breathe  your  still  song  into  the  reaper's  heart',  I 
As  home  he  goes  beneath  the  joyous  moonv.  | 


a  De-r&ct'.      b  Ar'dfent ;  not  ardunt.      c  Religious  awe ;  not  reli' 
gious-saw.      d  Brooks  attune  ;  not  brooks'sur-tune. 


264  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Ye  that  keep  watch  in  heav'n',  |  as  earth  asleep 
Unconscious  lies,  |  effuse  your  mildest  beamsv,  | 
Ye  constellations?  |  while  your  angels  stri/ce,  j 
Amid  the  spangled  sky,  \  the  silver  lyrev.  I 
Grea£  source  of  day'  !  |  best  image  here  below, 
Of  thy  Creator,  |  ever  pouring  wide, 
From  world  to  world,  |  the  vital  ocean  roundv,  | 
On  Nature  write  with  ev'ry  beanr,  his  praise.  | 

Ye  thunders,  roll'  ;  I  be  hush'd  the  prostrate  worldx,  | 

While  cloud  to  cloud  returns^  the  solemn  hymn.  | 

BleaJ  out  afresh,  ye  hills';  I  ye  mossy  rocks, 

Retain^  the  sound  ;  |  the  broad  responsive  low, 

Ye  valleys,  raise  —  |  for  the  Grea*  Shepherd  reigns*  ; 

And  his  unsuffering  kingdom  jet  will  comev.  | 

Ye  woodlands,a  all,  awa&e'  !  |  a  boundless  song 

Bursi  from  the  grovesv  ;  |  and,  when  the  restless  day, 

Expiring,  |  lays  the  warbling  world  asleep,  | 

Sweetest  of  birdss  |  sweet  Philomela,  i  charm 

The  listening  shades',  |  and  teach  the  nighi'  fas  praise. 


Ye  chief,  |  for  whom  the  whole  crea'tion  smilesv,  | 
At  once  the  heads  the  heart',  the  tonguex  of  all,  | 
Crown'  the  grea£  hymn.   |   In  swarming  cities  vas£,  | 
Assembled  men,  |  to  the  deep  organ,b  |  join 
The  long-resounding  voices  |  oft  breaking  clear, 
At  solemn  pauses,  |  through  the  swelling  bassx  ;  | 
And,  as  each  mingling  flame  increases  each,  | 
In  one  united  ardour,  rise  to  heaven. 
Or,  if  you  rather  choose  the  rural  shade,  | 
And  find  a  fane  in  ev'ry  sacred  grove,  | 
There  let  the  shepherd's  flutes  I  the  virgin's  lay*,  I 
The  prompting  ser'aph,  |  and  the  poet's  lyres  | 
Still  sing  the  God  of  Seasons  as  they  roll.  | 

For  me,  when  I  forgeZ  the  darling  theme,  | 
Whether  the  blossom  blowsv,  I  the  summer  ray 
Russets  the  plain',  |  inspiring  autumn  gleamss  | 

*  Wud'landi  ;  not  wood'luns.       bDeep  organ  ;  not  dee-por'gan. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  265 

!Or  winter  rises  in  the  blackening  eas^,  | 

8Be  my  tongue  mutes  \  rny  fancy  pain*  no  more*, 

And,  dead  to  joy,  I  forge*  my  heart  to  bea*x  / 1 

Should  fate  command  me  to  the  farthest  verge 
Of  the  green  earth',a  |  to  distant  barb'rous  climesx  ] 
Rivers  unknown  to  songv,  |  where  firs*  the  sun 
Gilds  Indian  mountains,  |  or  Ais  setting  beam 
Flames  on  the  Atlantic  isles\.  |  't  is  nought  to  me,  | 
Since  God  is  ever  pres*en*,  |  ever  fel*N,  | 
In  the  void  was*e  |  as  in  the  city  full ;  | 
And  where  he  vital  breathes,  !  there  must  be  joy.  j 

When  e'en  at  las*  the  solemn  hour  shall  come,  | 

And  wing  my  mystic  flight  to  future  worlds',  | 

I  cheerful  will  obeyv ;  |  there,  with  new  pow'rs  j 

Will  rising  wonders  singv :  1 1  canno*  go  | 

Where  Universal  Love  smiles  no*  around,  | 

Sustaining  all  yon  orbs,b  |  and  all  their  sunsv ;  | 

From  seeming  evil  still  educing  goodv,  | 

And  better  thence  againN,  1  and  better  stuT,  | 

In  infinite  progresvsion.    |   Bu*  I  lose 

Myself  in  Hinv,  \  in  Ligh*  ineffable  !  | 

Come  then,  expressive  SHence,  |  muse  His  praise.  | 


(DIMOND.) 

lii  slumbers  of  mid\nigh£,  the  saivlor-boy  lay;  | 

His  hammocA;  swung  loose  at  the  spor*  of  the  windx ;  | 

Bu*,  watch- worn,  and  weary,  his  cares  flew  away ;  | 
And  visions  of  happiness  danc'd  o'er  his  mindv.  | 

He  dream'd  of  his  home*,  |  of  Ais  dear  native  bowers,  | 
And  pleasures  tha*  waited  on  life's'  merry  morn\ ;  | 

While  Memory  stood  side  wise,  half  cover'd  with  flowers,| 
And  restor'd  ev'ry  rose7,  |  bu*  secreted  its  thornv.  | 

*  Green  earth ;  not  gree-nearth'.         b  Yon  orbs ;  not  yon-norbs 
23 


266  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Then  Faircy,  Aer  magical  pinions  spread  wide*,  \ 
And  bade  the  young  dreamer  in  ecstasy  risev  —  | 

Now  far,  far  behind  Aim,  the  green  waters  glide1  ;  1 
And  the  cot  of  Ais  forefathers,  blesses  Ais  eyesv.  | 

The  jessamine  clambers  in  flower  o'er  the  thatch  ;  j 
And  the  swallow  sings  swee^from  Aernest  in  the  wall  ; 

All  trembling  with  transport,  he  raises  the  latch'  ;  | 
And  the  voices  of  lov'd'  ones  reply  to  Ais  calL.  j 

A  father  bends  o'er  him  with  looks  of  delight;  | 

His  chee&  is  impearl'd  with  a  mother's  warm  tear*  ;  j 

And  the  lips  of  the  boy  in  a  love-kiss,  unite'  | 

With  the  lips  of  the  maid  whom  Ais  bosom  holds  dearx.| 

The  heart  of  the  sleeper  beats  high  in  Ais  breast  ;  | 
Joy  quickens  Ais  pulsev  —  |  all  hardships  seem  o'erx  ;  j 

And  a  murmur  of  happiness  steals  through  Ais  res^  —  | 
Kind  Fate,  thou  hast  bless'dx  me  —  II  as&for  no  morev.) 

Ah!  |  wha£  is  tha£  flame  which  now  bursts  on  Ais  eyej  | 
Ah  !  |  wha£  is  tha£  sound  which  now  larums  Ais  ear1  ?  j 

'T  ib  the  lightning's  red  glare,  painting  hell  on  the  sky!  | 
'T  is  the  crashing  of  thun'ders,|the  groan  of  the  sphereJ 

He  springs  from  Ais  hanrmock  —  |  he  flies  to  the  decA^  —  | 
Amazement  confronts  Aim  with  images  direx  —  | 

Wild  winds,  and  mad  waves  drive  the  vessel  a  wrecA;x  —  | 
The  maste  fly  in  splinters  —  |  the  shrouds  are  on  fire  !  j 

LiAe  mountains  the  billows  tremendously  swelL  —  | 
In  vain  the  lost  wretch  calls  on  Mercy  to  save*  ;  j 

Unseen  hands  of  spirits,  are  ringing  Ais  knelb  ; 

And  the  death-angel  flaps  Aj«  broad  wing  o'er  the 


O  sailor-boy  !  wo  to  thy  dream  of  delight  /  | 

In  darkness  dissolves  the  gay  frost-wor/c  of  bliss1.  | 

Where  now  is  the  picture  tha£  Fancy  touch'd  bright, 
Thy  parents'  fond  pressure,  I  and  love's  honied  kiss.? 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  267 

O  sai'lor-boy  !  sai'lor-boy  !  |  never  again',  | 

Shall  home',  love',  or  kinvdred,  thy  wishes  repay  v ;  | 

Unbless'd,  and  unhonvour'd,  |  down  deep  in  the  main',  | 
Full  many  a  score  fath'om,  |  thy  frame  shall  decayx.  | 

No  tomb  shall  e'er  plead  to  remembrance  for  theex,  | 
Or  redeem  form',  or  frame'  from  the  merciless  surgev ;  | 

But  the  white  foam  of  waves,  shall  thy  winding-shee£  be',| 
And  winds,  in  the  midnight  of  winder,  thy  dirgex !  | 

On  beds  of  green  seax-flowTers,  thy  limbs  shall  be  laid;  | 
Around  thy  white  bones,  the  red  coral  shall  grow ;  | 

Of  thy  fair  yellow  locks,  threads  of  anYber  be  made ;  | 
And  ev'ry  part  sui£  to  thy  mansion  below^.  | 

Days/,  months',  years',  and  avges  shall  circle  away;  | 
And  still  the  vas£  waters  abovev  thee  shall  roll  —  | 

Earth  loses  thy  pattern  for  ever,  and  aye\ :  —  | 
O  sai/lor-boy  !  sai'lor-boy  !  peace  to  thy  soul !  ] 


GOD. 

[From  the  Russian  Anthology.] 
(DERZHAVIN.) 

O  THOU  eter'nal  One  !  i  whose  presence  bright  j 
All  space  doth  oc'cupy,  |  all  motion  guide\ ;  | 
Unchang'd  through  time's  all-devastating  flight;  | 
Thou  on'ly  God  /   |   There  is  no  God  besidex !  | 
Being  above  all*  beings  !  |  Miglrty  One  !  | 
Whom  none  can  comprehend,  |  and  none  explore' ;  | 
Who  fill's^  existence  with  thyself  alone* :  | 
Embracing  alb  —  |  supporting —  |  ruling  o'er —  | 
Being  whom  we  call  Godv  —  I  and  know  no  morev !  \ 

In  its  sublime  research,  I  philosophy 
May  measure  out  the  o  cean-deep  —  |  may  count 
The  sands%  |  or  the  sun's  rays'  —  |  buZ,  God  /  |  for  thee 
There  is  no  weight,  nor  measure :  |  none  can  mounZ 
Up  to  thy  mysteries.   1  Reason's  brightest  spar/;,  ] 


268  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Though  kindled  by  thy  ligh£,  |  in  vain  would  try 
To  trace  thy  counsels,  I  infinite,  and  dark, ;  \ 
And  thought  is  los£'  |  ere  thought  can  soar  so  higlr, 
E'en  like  pas£  moments  in  etennity.  | 


Thou  from  primeval  nothingness,  |  didsZ  call'  | 

FirsZ  chavos,  I  then  existence  —  |  Lord,  on  thee 

Eternity  had  its  foundation:  —  |  all 

Sprung  forth  from  theex  :  —  |  of  ligh^,  I  joy',  |  harmony,  | 

Sole  or\igin  :  I  all  life',  |  all  beauvty  t  thine,  j 

Thy  word  created  alls  |  and  doth'  create  ;  j 

Thy  splendour  fills  all  space  with  rays  divine.  | 

Thou  art',  |  and  wer£',  |  and  shal^   be!  I  Glorious!  | 


Life'-giving,  I  life-sustairring  Potentate*  !  | 

Thy  chains  the  unmeasur'd  universe  surround:  | 
Upheld'  by  thee,  |  by  thee  inspir'd  with  breath*  :  | 
Thou  the  beginning  with  the  end'  has*  bound,  | 
And  beautifully  mingled  life,  and  deathv  !  I 
As  sparks  mounZ  upwards  from  the  fiery  blazes  \ 
So  suns'  are  born  ;  |  so  worlds'  spring  forth  from  theev 
And,  as  the  spangles  in  the  sunny  rays  i 
Shine  round  the  silver  snows  |  the  pageantryb 
Of  heaven's  bright  army,  !  glitters  in  thy  praise.0  1 

A  million  torches,  lighted  by  thy  hand,  | 
Wander  unwearied  through  the  blue  abyssv  :  | 
They  own  thy  powser,  |  accomplish  thy  command',  | 
All  gay  with  lifes  |  all  eloquent  with  blissx.  | 


»  P6't£n-tite  ;  not  p6'tn-t£te. 

c  "  The  force  of  this  simile,"  says  Bowring,  in  his  Specimens  of 
the  Russian  Poets,  "  can  hardly  be  imagined  by  those  who  have 
never  witnessed  the  sun  shining,  with  unclouded  splendour,  in  a 
cold  of  twenty  or  thirty  degrees  of  Reaumur.  A  thousand,  and  ten 
thousand  sparkling  stars  of  ice,  brighter  than  the  brightest  diamond, 
play  on  the  surface  of  the  frozen  snow;  and  the  slightest  breeze  sets 
myriads  of  icy  atoms  in  motion,  whose  glancing  light,  and  beauti 
ful  rainbow  hues,  dazzle  and  weary  the  eye." 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Wha*  shall  we  call'  them  ?   |   Piles  of  crystal  ligh*',  J 
A  glorious  company  of  golden  streams',  | 
Lamps  of  celestial  e'ther,  |  burning  bright  —  | 
Suns',  lighting  systems  with  their  joyous  beams*  ?  | 
Bu£  thou  to  these    art  as  the  noon  to  nigh£x.  | 

Yes',  as  a  drop  of  water  in  the  sea\  | 

All  this  magnificence  in  thee  is  los^ !  | 

What  are  ten  thousand  worlds'  compared  to  thee*  ?  | 

And  what  am  T  then  ?   I   Heaven's  unnumber'd  host,  j 

Though  multiplied  by  myr'iads,  |  and  array'd 

In  all  the  glory  of  sublimes^  thought.  | 

Is  but  an  at  oma  in  the  balance,  I  weigh'd 

Against  thy  greatness  —  |  is  a  cypher  brought 

Against  infinity  !   |  Wha£  am  T  then  ?      Nought  /  | 

Nought/      Bu£  the  effluence  of  thy  ligh*  divine,  | 

Pervading  worlds,  j  hath  reach'd  my  bo'som  too ;  | 

Yes' !  in  my  spirit  doth  thy  spirit  shine,  | 

As  shines  the  sunbeam  in  a  drop  of  dew.  I 

Nought  /  |  but  I  live,  and  on  hope's  pinions    fly    | 

Eager  towards  thy  presence ;  !  for  in  thee 

I  live',  I  and  breathe',  i  and  dwell' ;  |  aspiring  high*,  | 

E'en  to  the  throne  of  thy  divinity. 

I  am,  O  God/  |  and  surely  thou  mus£  be !  I 

Thou  art'  /  |  directing,  guiding  all\,  I  thou  art'  /  | 
Direct  my  understanding,  then,  to  theex ;  | 
Control  my  spirit,  |  guide  my  wandering  heart :  j 
Though  but  an  atvoma  midst  immensity,  | 
Still  I  am  something  fashion'd  by  thy  hand  /  | 
I  hold  a  mid'dle  ra.nk  'twix^  heaven,  and  earth',  J 
On  the  last  verge  of  mortal  being  stand',  | 
Close  to  the  realms  where  an'gels  have  their  birth,  | 
JusZ  on  the  boundaries  of  the  spirat-land  / 

The  chain  of  being  is  complete'  in  me,  —  j 
f n  me  is  matter's  lasZ  gradation  losZv ;  | 


"  But  an  atom ;  not  but-ter-nat'tom. 
23* 


270  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

And  the  nex£  step  is  spirit  —  |  Deaty  !  | 

[  can  command  the  lightening,  j  and  am  dust, !  \ 

A  mon'arch,    and  a  slave* ;  |  a  worm',  |  a  Godv  /  | 

Whence  camex  I  here  ?  I  and  how  so  marvellously 

Constructed,  and  conceiv'dv  ?  \  unknownv.   |   This  clod 

Lives  surely  through  some  higher  energy ;  | 

For,  from  itself  alone,  |  it  could  not  be !  | 

Creator,  yes\ !  I  thy  wisdom,  and  thy  wordx 

Created  me  !   !   Thou  source  of  life,  and  goodv  /  | 

Thou  spirit  of  my  spirit,  I  and  my  Lordx  /  | 

Thy  ligh^,  I  thy  Jovex,  I  in  their  bright  plenitude,  | 

Fill'd  me  with  an  immortal  soul  I  to  spring 

O'er  the  abyss  of  death,  |  and  bade  it  wear 

The  garments  of  eternal  days  I  and  wing 

Its  heavenly  flight  |  beyond  this  little  sphere,  | 

E'en  to  its  source\  —  |  to  thee*  —  I  its  Author  there,  j 

O  thoughts  ineffable  !   |  O  visions  bles£v  /  | 
Though  worthless,  our  conceptions  all  of  thee7 ;  | 
Ye£  shall  thy  shadow'd  image  fill  our  breast,  | 
And  waft  its  homage  to  thy  Deity.  | 
God,  thus  alone  my  lowly  thoughts  can  soar* ;  | 
Thus  seek  thy  presence,  |  Being  wise,  and  good  /  | 
Midsi  thy  vast  works  admire',  |  obey',  I  adorex ;  | 
And,  when  the  tongue  is  eloquent  no  more,  | 
The  soul  shall  speaA;  in  tears  of  gratitude.  | 


WITHOUT    GOD    IN    THE    WORLD. 

(REV.  ROBERT    HALL.) 

The  exclusion  of  a  Supreme  Being,  |  and  of  a  super- 
/ntending  providence,11  I  tends  directly  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  moral  taste.  I  It  robs  the  universe  of  all  finished, 
and  consummate  excellence,  |  even  in  idea.  I  The  ad- 
miration of  perfect  wisdom,  and  goodness  I  for  which 
we  are  formed,  I  and  which  kindles  such  unspeakable 

"  Pr6v'e-d£ns ;  not  provurdunce. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  271 

rapture  in  the  soul,  I  finding  in  the  regions  of  scepti- 
cism I  nothing  to  which  \t  corresponds,  |  droops,  and 
languishes.  |  In  a  work?  which  presents  a  fair  spec- 
taclea  of  order,  and  beauty,  I  of  a  vasZ  family,  nourished, 
and  supported  by  an  Almighty  Parent  —  !  in  a  world 
which  leads  the  devout  mind,  step  by  step,  |  to  the  con- 
templation of  the  first  fair,  and  the  firs£  good,  I  the  scep- 
tic is  encompassed  with  nothing  but  obscurity,  mean- 
ness, and  disorder.  | 

When  we  reflect  on  the  manner  in  which  the  idea 
of  Deity  is  formed,  |  we  must  be  convinced  j  tha£  such 
an  idea  intimately  present  to  the  mind,  I  mus*  have  a 
most  powerful  effect  I  in  refining  the  moral  taste.  |  Com- 
posed of  the  richest  elements,h|it  embraces  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  beneficent  Parent,  I  and  Almighty  Ruler,  | 
whatever  is  venerable  in  wisvdom,  |  whatever  is  awful 
in  authority,  I  whatever  is  touching  in  goodness,  j 

Human  excellence  is  blended  with  many  imperfec- 
tions, |  and  seen  under  many  limitations,  j  It  is  beheld 
only  in  detached,  and  separate  portions,  |  nor  ever  ap- 
pears in  any  one  character,  whole,  and  entire.  |  So 
that,  when,  in  imitation  of  the  Stoics,  1  we  wish  to  form 
out  of  these  fragments,  i  the  notion  of  a  perfectly  wise, 
and  good  man,  |  we  know  it  is  a  mere  fiction  of  the 
mind\  I  without  any  real  being  in  whom  it  is  embodied, 
and  realized.  I  In  the  belief  of  a  Deity,  i  these  concep- 
tions are  reduced  to  reaHty  —  |  the  scattered  rays  of 
an  ideal  excellence,  are  concentrated,  |  and  become  the 
real  attributes  of  that  Being  i  with  whom  we  stand  in 
the  nearest  relation  —  I  who  sits  supreme  at  the  head 
of  the  universe,  !  is  armed  with  infinite  pow  er,  i  and 
pervades  all  nature  with  his  presence.  I 

The  efficacy  of  these  sentiments,  |  in  producing,  and 
augmenting  a  virtuous  taste,  |  will  indeed  be  propor- 
tioned to  the  vividness  with  which  they  are  formed',  : 
and  the  frequency  with  which  they  recur\ ;  |  jet  some 

'  Sp&k'td-kl.        b  El'£-m£nts;  not  elurmunts.         c  P&'r£nt. 


272  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

benefit  will  not  fail  to  result  from  them  |  even  in  their 
lowest  degree.  | 

The  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being,  |  has  this'  peculiar 
property  —  I  that,  as  it  admits  of  no  substitute,  I  so, 
from  the  first  moment  it  is  impressed,  |  it  is  .capable  of 
continual  growth,  and  enlargement  I  God  Aimself  is 
immutable ;  1  but  our  conception  of  his  character,  |  is 
continually  receiving  fresh  accessions,  —  |  is  continu- 
ally growing  more  extended  and  reful'genZ,  |  by  having 
transferred  upon  it  \  new  perceptions  of  beauty,  and 
goodness ;  |  by  attracting  to  itself,  as  a  centre,  |  what- 
ever bears  the  impress  of  dig'nity,  or'der,  or  happiness,  j 
It  borrows  splendour  from  all  that  is  fain,  j  subordi- 
nates to  itself  all  that  is  grea^,  I  and  sits  enthroned  on 
the  riches  of  the  universe.  | 


THE    THREE    WARNINGS. 

(MRS.  THRALE.) 

The  tree  of  deepest  root,  is  found    | 
"Least  willing  still  to  quit  the  ground* ;  | 
'T  was  therefore  said  by  ancient  sages,  | 

Tha£  love  of  life  increas'd  with  years    | 
So  much,  I  that,  in  our  latter  stages,  | 
When  pains  grow  sharp,  and  sickness  rages,  | 

The  greatest  love  of  life   appears .  | 
This  grea*  affection  to  believe,  | 
Which  all  confess,  |  but  few  perceive,  | 
If  old  assertions  can't  prevail,  j 
Be  pleas'd  to  hear  a  modern  talex.  | 

When  sports  wen£  round,  and  all  were  gay,  j 
On  neighbour  Dodson's  wedding-day,  ] 
Death  call'd  aside  the  jocund  groom   | 
With  him,  into  another  roonr ;  | 
And  looking  grave  —  I  "  You  musZ,"  says  he,  \ 
"Quit  your  sweet  bride',  I  and  come  with  me/' 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  273 

•'  With  you' !  I  and  quit  my  Susan's  side' !  | 
With  you'!"   |  'the  hapless  husband  cried/;] 
2"  Young  as  I  am,  't  is  monstrous  hard*  / 1 
Beside,  in  truth,  I  'in  not  prepar'd* :  | 
My  thoughts  on  oth'er  matters  go ;  | 
This  is  my  wedding-day,  you  know."  | 

What  more  he  urg'd,  I  have  no*  heard*,  | 

His  reasons  could  not  well  be  stronger ;  | 
So  Death  the  poor  delinquent  spar'dx,  | 

And  left  to  live  a  little  longer.  | 
Ye£,  calling  up  a  serious  IOO/D  —  | 
('His  hour-glass  trembled  while  he  spo&ex)  | 
2"  Neighbour,"  he  said,  I  "  farewell.  |  No  more  i 
Shall  Death  disturb  your  mirthful  hour* ;  j 
And  farther,  I  to  avoid  all  blame    | 
Of  cruelty  upon  my  name,  | 
To  give  you  time  for  preparation,  | 
And  fit  you  for  your  future  station,  | 
Three  several  warnings  you  shall  have,  | 
Before  you  're  summon'd  to  the  gravev.  | 
Willing  for  once,  I  '11  quiz  my  prey,  | 

And  gran*  a  kind  reprieve\,  | 
In  hopes  you  '11  have  no  more  to  say* ;  j 
Bu£,  when  I  call  again*  this  way,  | 

Well  pleas'd  the  world  will  leave/'  | 
To  these  conditions  both  consented/) 
And  parted  perfectly  contended.  | 

What  nex£  the  hero  of  our  tale  befell,  | 
How  long  he  liv'dv,  |  how  wisex,  I  how  well,  | 
How  roundly  he  pursued  his  course,  | 
And  smok'd  his  pipe',  I  and  strok'd  his  horse',  I 

The  willing  muse  shall  telh :  I 
He  chaf  fer'd  then,  |  he  bought,  |  he  soldx, ! 
Nor  once  perceiv'd*  7iis  growing  old',  I 

Nor  thought  of  Death  as  near^ ;  | 
His  friends  not  false',  I  his  wife  no  shrew,  | 
Many  his  gains',  |  his  children  few/,  | 


274  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

He  pass'd  7tis  hours  in  peace,.  | 
Bu£,  while  he  view'd  his  wealth  increase,  j 
While  thus  along  Life's  dusty  road,  | 
The  beaten  tracA:  contend  he  trod,  \ 
O\d  Time,  |  whose  haste  no  mortal  spares,  | 
Uncall'd',  |  unheeded,  |  unawares^, 

Brought  on  his  eightieth  yearx.  | 
And  now,  one  nigttf,  |  in  musing  mood,  \ 

As  all  alone  he  sate,  \ 
The  unwelcome  messenger  of  Fate,  | 

Once  more  before  him  stood.  \ 

Half  kill'd  with  anger,  and  surprise,  | 
"So  soon  return'd'!"  I  'old  Dodson  cries/,  | 
2"  So  soon,  d'ye  call  it?"  I  'Death  replies,:  | 
3"  Surely,  my  friend,  |  you  're  but   in  jes2'/a  | 

Since  I  was  here  before     | 
'T  is  six-and-thirty  years'  (  at  leas£,b  | 

And  you  are.  now  fourscore.") 
"  So  much  the  worse',"  |  'the  clown  rejoin'dv,  j 
2"  To  spare  the  aged  would  be  kind'  :  j 
However,  see  your  search  be  le'gal  ;  | 
And  your  authority  —  |  is  't  re'gal  ?  ! 
Else  you  are  come  on  a  fool's'  errand,  | 
With  but  a  secretary's  warrant  | 
Beside',  you  promis'd  me  Three  Warnings    | 
Which  I  have  look'd  for  nights,  and  moorings! 
BuZ,  for  thai  loss  of  time,  and  ease,  | 
I  can  recover  danrages."  | 


«  I  know,"  cries  Death,  |  "  that,  at  the 

I  seldom  am  a  wel'come  guest;  | 

Bu£  donV  be  captious,  friend,  at  leas*'  :  | 

I  little  thought  you'd  still  be  able    | 

To  stump  abouZ  your  farm7,  and  stable  ;  | 

Your  years  have  run  to  a  greaZ  length'  ;  | 

I  wish  you  joy,  though,  of  your  strength*  !"  j 

But  in  jest  ;  not  button  jest.     b  Years  at  least  ;  not  years'at-least. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  275 

"  Hold',"  says  the  farmer,  I  "  no*  so  fas*>  /  | 
I  have  been  lame  these  four  years  pasi."  | 
"  And  no  greai  won'der,"  I  Death  replies* :  | 
"  However,  you  still  keep  your  eyes' ; '[ 
And  sure,  to  see  one's  loves,  and  friends,  | 
For  legs,  and  arms,  would  ma£e  amends."  | 
"  Perhaps,"  says  Dodson,  "  so  it  migh^,  | 
Bui  latterly,  I  Ve  losi  my  sigh*,."  | 

"  This  is  a  shocking  tale,  't  is  true,  | 

Bui  still  there  's  comfort  left1  for  you :  | 

Each  strives  your  sadness  to  amuse  —  | 

I  warrant  you  hear  all  the  news."  | 

"  There 's  none',"  cries  he ;  I  "  and,  if  there  were,  | 

I  *m  grown  so  deaf,  I  could  noi  hear."  I 

"  Nayx,  then,"  |  the  spectre  stern  rejoin'd*,  | 

"  These  are  unjustifiable  yearnings ;  | 
If  you  are  Lame',  and  Deaf,  and  Blind',  | 

You  've  had'  your  Three  sufficient  Warnings.  1 
So,  come  along',     no  more*  we  '11  part ;"  1 
He  said,  |  and  touch'd  him  with  Ais  dart.  | 
And  now,  old  Dodson  turning  pale,  | 
Yields  to  Ais  fate*  —  |  so  ends  my  talev.  \ 


THE  CHAMELEON  ;  OR,  PERTINACITY  EXPOSED. 

(MERRICK.) 

Oft  has  it  been  my  lot  to  mar&  | 
A  proud,  conceited,  talking  spar^,  | 
With  eyes  thai  hardly  serv'd  at  mos£v,  | 
To  guard  their  master  'gainsi  a  posi( ;  | 
Yei  round  the  world  the  blade  has  been,  | 
To  see  whatever  could  be  seen* :  | 
Returning  from  his  finish'd  tour,  | 
Grown  ten  times  perter  than  beforex ;  | 
Whatever  word  you  chance  to  drop,  | 
The  traveled  fool  your  mouth  will  stop* :  | 


276  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

"  Sir,  if  my  judgment  you  '11  allow  —  | 
I  've  seen  —  |  and  sure  I  ough£  to  know."  | 
So,  begs  you  'd  pay  a  due  submission,  | 
And  acquiesce  in  his  decisaon.  | 

Two  travellers  of  such  a  cas£,  | 
As  o'er  Arabia's  wilds  they  pass'd,  | 
And  on  their  way,  in  friendly  cha£,  | 
Now  talk'd  of  this',  and  then  of  thaZ',  | 
Discours'd  a  while,  'mongs£  other  matter,  | 
Of  the  Chameleon's  fornr,  |  and  nature.  | 

"A  stranger  animal,"  cries  one,  | 

"  Sure  never  liv'd  beneath  the  sum !  | 

A  lizard's  body,  |  lean,  and  long*,  | 

A  fish's  heads  I  a  serpent's  tongue*,  | 

Its  foot  with  triple  claw  disjoin'd —  j 

And  wha£  a  length  of  tail'  behind  /  | 

How  slow ,  its  pace* !  |  and  then  (  its  huev  —  j 

Who  ever  saw  so  fine  a  bluev  ?"  | 

"Holdx  there,"  I  the  other  quick  replies*,  | 
"  'T  is  green'  —  I  I  saw  i*  with  these   eyes',  | 
As  late  with  open  mouth,  it  lay,  | 
And  warm'd  it  in  the  sunny  ray*;  | 
Stretch'J  at  its  eases  the  beas£  I  view'd',  | 
And  saw  it  ea£  the  air  for  foodx."  I 

"  I  've  seen  i£,  friend,  as  well  as  youx,  | 
And  mus^  again  affirm  it  blue*.  | 
A^  leisure,  I  the  beas£  survey'^',  | 
Extended  in  the  cooling  shade/'  | 

"  'T  is  green',  't  is  green',  I  can  assure*  ye."  1 
"  Green' !"  |  !cries  the  other  in  a  fury/  —  | 
2"  Whys  do  you  thin&  I  've  lost  my  eyes'  ?"  | 
"  'T  were  no  grea^  loss,"  the  friend  replies/, : 
"  For,  if  they  always  serve  you  thus',  j 
You'll  find  them  bu*  of  little  use/'  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  277 

So  high  at  las*  the  contest  rose',  | 
From  words  they  almost  came  to  blowsv :  | 
When  luckily  came  by,  a  third* —  | 
To  him  the  question  they  referr'dv;  | 
And  begg'd  he  'd  tell  them,  if  Ae  knew,  | 
Whether  the  thing  was  green,  or  blue .  | 

"  Sirs,"  cries  the  umpire,  |  "  cease  your  pother;  | 
The  creature's  neither  one  nor  t'other.  | 
I  caught  the  animal  las*  nigh*,  | 
And  view'd  it  o'er  by  canNdle-ligh* :  | 
I  mark'd  i*  well  —  |  't  was  blacfc  as  je**  —  } 
You  stare —  |  bu*  I  have  got  \t  ye*',  | 
And  can  produce'  it."  \  "  Pray  then  do* ;  | 
For  I  am  sure  the  thing  is  blue*."  | 

"  And  I  'IP  engage    I  tha*  when  you  've  seen   | 
The  reptile,  I  you  '11  pronounce  him  green."  | 
"  Well  then,     a*  once  to  end  the  doub*,"  | 
Replies  the  man,  |  "  I  '11  turn  Aim  ouA ;  | 
And,  when  before  your  eyes  I've  se*  him,  \ 
If  you  don'*  find  him  blacfc,  I  I  '11  ea*'  Aim."  I 
He  said* ;  i  then  full  before  their  sigh*,  j 
Product  the  beas*x,  |  an  d  lo !  —  't  was  whi*et !  j 

Both  staredx :  |  the  man  look'd  wondrous  wise  —  | 
"My  children,"  |  Hhe  chameleon  cries,  j 
(Then  firs*  the  creature  found  a  tongue)  | 
2"  You  all  are  righ*,  I  and  all  are  wrong* :  | 
When  nex*  you  tal/u  of  wha*  you  view,  j 
ThinA  others  see  as  well  as  youx :  | 
Nor  wonder  if  you  find  tha*  none/ ,  | 
Prefers  your  eye-sigh*  to  Ais  ownt."  | 


24 


278  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


THE    INVOCATION. 

[Written  after  the  death  of  a  sister-in-law.  J 
(MRS.  HEMANS.) 

Answer  me,  burning  stars  of  night1!  \ 

Where  hath  the  spirk  gone,  | 
Tha£,  past  the  reach  of  human  sighz,  | 

E'en  as  a  breeze,  hath  flown*?  | 
And  the  stars  answerW  me, —  |  "We  roll 

In  ligh£,  and  power  on  high* ;  | 
Butt  of  the  never-dying  soul',  | 

AsA;  things  that  cannot  diex  I"  | 

O  many-toned,  and  chainless  windx  /  | 

Thou  art  a  wanderer  free1,  |  s  n 

Tell  me  if  thou  its  place  canst  nnd't  \ 

Far  over  moun£,  and  sea,  1  \ 
And  the  wind. murmur's?  in  reply, — -  \ 

11  The  blue  deep  I  have  cross'd',  | 
And  met  its  barks,  and  billows  higlv,  | 

Bu£  not  \\hat  thou  has*  los£v  /"  | 

Ye  clouds  tha£  gorgeously  repose  | 

Around  the  setting  suns  | 
An'swer !  |  have  ye  a  home  for  those  | 

Whose  earthly  race  is  run'?  | 
The  bright  clouds  answer'^,  —  |  "  We  depart,  | 

We  van'ish  from  the  skyv;  | 
AsA;  wha*  is  deathless  in  thy  hear^,  | 

For  tha*  which  cannof  diev !"  | 

SpeaA:,  then,  thou  voice  of  God  within* !  I 

Thou  of  the  deep  low  tonev !  | 
An  swer  me !  I  through  life's  restless  din',  | 

Where  hath  the  spirit  flown?  | 
And  the  voice  answer5^, —  |  "Be  thou  still!  | 

Enough  to  know  is  giv^'n;  | 
Clouds,  winds,  and  stars  their  task  fulfil, —  | 

Thine  is  to  trus£  in  Heav/n  I"  I 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  279 


HAPPY  FREEDOM  OF  THE  MAN  WHOM  GRACE  MAKES  FREE. 

(COWPER.) 

He  is  the  freeman,  whom  the  truth*  makes  free  ;  | 
And  all  are  slaves  beside.   |   There  's  not  a  chain  | 
That  hellish  foes,  confederate  for  his  harm,  | 
Can  wine?  around  Aim,  !  but  he  caste  it  off  j 
With  as  much  ease  as  Samson  Ais  green  withes.  | 
He  looks  abroad  into  the  varied  field 
Of  nature,  j  and,  though  poor,  perhaps,  j  compared 
With  those  whose  mansions  glitter  in  his  sight,  \ 
Calls  the  delightful  scenery  all  Ais  own.  | 

His  are  the  mountains  ;  I  and  the  vaHeys  his  ;  | 

And  the  resplendent  riv'ers  :  |  his  to  enjoy  | 

With  a  propriety  thai  none  can  feel,  | 

Bui  who,  with  filial  confidence  inspired,  I 

Can  lift  to  heaven  an  unpresumptuous  eye,  | 

And,  smiling,  say,  —  |  "  My  Father  made  them  all  !"  ; 


Are  they  not  his  by  a  peculiar 
And  by  an  emphasis  of  in'teresi  his, 
Whose  eye  they  fill  with  tears  of  holy  joy,  | 
Whose  heart  with  praise',  |  and  whose  exalted  mind 
With  worthy  thoughts  of  thai  unwearied  love  | 
Thai  planned,  and  buili,  !  and  still  upholds  a  world  j 
So  clothed  with  beauty,  for  rebellious 


Yes*  —  |  ye  may  fill  your  ganners,  |  ye  thai 
The  loaded  soil*,  |  and  ye  may  wasie  much  good 
In  senseless  ri.oi  ;  I  bui  ye  will  noi  find 
In  feasi',  I  or  in  the  chase*,  I  in  song',  or  dance',  j 
A  liberty  like  his,  I  who,  unimpeach'd 
Of  usurpation,  I  and  to  no  man's  wrong,  | 
Appropriaies  nature  as  Ais  Father's  wor&,  | 
And  has  a  richer  use  of  yours  than  you.  I 
He  is  indeed*  a  freeman  :  I  free  by  birth* 
Of  no  mean  city,  I  plann'd  or  ere  the  hills* 


280  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Were  built,  |  the  fountains  o^pen'd,  |  or  the  sea'  I 
With  all  his  roaring  multitude  of  waves.  I 

His  freedom  is  the  same  in  ev^ry  state ;  | 
And  no  condition  of  this  changeful  life,  | 
So  manifold  in  cares,  |  whose  ev'ry  day 
Brings  its  own  evil  with  it,  \  makes  it  less^ ;  | 
For  he  has  wings  |  thai  neither  sickness',  pain', 
Nor  penNury  |  can  cripple,  or  confine* :  | 
No  nook  so  narrow  |  bui  he  spreads  them  there 
With  easev,  I  and  is  at  large* :  |  the  oppressor  holds 
His  body  bound,  |  but  knows  not  whai  a  range 
His  spirit  ta&es,  |  unconscious  of  a  chain* ;  I 
And  thai  to  bind  him,  |  is  a  vain  attempt,  j 
Whom  God  delights  in,  |  and  in  whom  he  dwells/ 1 


THE    EXILE    OF    ERIN. 
(CAMPBELL.) 

There  came  to  the  beach,  a  poor  exile  of  Exrin ;  | 

The  dew  on  his  thin  ro&e,  was  heavy,  and  chill ;  j 
For  his  country  he  sigh'd  when  at  twilight  repairing,  J 

To  wander  alone  by  the  wind-beaten  hilh  | 
But  the  day-star  attracted  his  eye's  sad  devotion ;  | 
For  it  rose  on  his  own  native  isle  of  the  ocean,  | 
Wheve  once,  in  the  fervour  of  youth's  warm  emotion,  | 
He  sung  the  bold  anthem  of  Erin  go  bragh.  | 

Sad  is  my  fate  !  (said  the  heart-broken  stranger)  | 
The  wild-deer,  and  wolf  to  a  covert  can  flee ;  | 

Bui  I  have  no  refuge  from  famine,  and  dagger :  | 
A  home,  and  a  country  remain  not  to  me4  —  j 

Never  again  in  the  green  sunny  bowers,  | 

Where  my  forefathers  liv'd,  I  shall  I  spend  the  swee* 
hourss  | 

Or  cover  my  harp  with  the  wild-woven  flowers,  ] 
And  stride  to  the  numbers  of  Erin  go  braght !  ] 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  281 

Erin,  my  country !  |  though  sad,  and  forsaken,  | 

In  dreams'  I  revisit  thy  sea-beaten  shore ;  | 
Bui,  alas !  in  a  far  foreign  land,  I  awaken,  | 

And  sigh  for  the  friends  thai  can  meet  me  no  moret.  | 
O  cruel  fate !  I  wili  thou  never  replace  me  j 
In  a  mansion  of  peace  I  where  no  perils  can  chase'  me?  j 
Never  again  shall  my  brothers  embrace^  me,  —  | 
They  died  to  defend  me,  |  or  live  to  deplore, !  j 

Where  is  my  cabvin-door,  |  fast  by  the  wildv  wood  ?  \ 

Sisters,  and  sire,  did  ye  weep  for  its  fall'  ?  | 
Where  is  the  mother  thai  look'd  on  my  childvhood  ?  \ 
And  where  is  the  bosom-friend,  dearer  than  all.  ?  | 
O  my  sad  soul !  long  abandon'd  by  pleasure,  | 
Why  did  it  dote  on  a  fasi-fading  treasure !  | 
Tears,  like  the  rain'-drops,  may  fall  withoui  measure;  j 
Bui  rapture,  and  beauty  they  caimoi  recall^,  j 

Yei  all  its  fond  recollections  suppressing,  | 

One  dying  wish  my  lone  bosom  shall  draw* :  | 
Erin !  an  exile  bequeaths  thee  fas  blessing  !  | 

Land  of  my  forefathers  !   I   Erin  go  braghx !  | 
Buried,  and  cold,  when  my  heari  stills  Aer  motion,  | 
Green  be  thy  fields,  sweetesi  isle  of  the  o'cean !  \ 
And  thy  harp-striking  bards  sing  aloud  with  devotion —  | 
Erin  ma  vournin  !  —  |  Erin  go  braght  !*  | 


THE  BURIAL  OP  SIR  JOHN  MOORE,  WHO  FELL  AT  THE 
BATTLE  OF  CORUNNA. 

(WOLFE.) 

Noi  a  drum  was  heard,  nor  a  funeral  noies  | 
As  Ais  corse  to  the  rampari  we  hurried  ;  I 

Noi  a  soldier  discharg'd  his  farewell  shoix  | 
O'er  the  grave  where  our  hero  we  buried.  | 

*  Ireland  my  darling !  —  Ireland  for  ever ! 
24* 


*2  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

We  buried  Mm  darkly  ai  dead  of  nighix,  I 
The  sods  with  our  bayonets  turning,  I 

By  the  struggling  moonbeam's  misty  lighf,  | 
And  the  lantern  dimly  burning.  | 

No  useless  coffin  enclos'd  fas  breast,  j 

Nor  in  sheei,  nor  in  shroud,  we  bound*  him ;  | 
Bui  he  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest,  \ 

With  Ais  martial  cloa/c  around  Aim.  | 
Few,  and  shori  were  the  prayers  we  said;  | 

And  we  spoke  not  a  word  of  sorrow ;  | 
Bui  we  steadfastly  gaz'd  on  the  face  of  the  dead;  | 

And  we  bitterly  thoughi  of  the  morrow.  | 

We  thought,  as  we  hallow'd  Ais  narrow  bed,  | 

And  smooth'd  down  Ais  lonely  pillow, 
Thai  the  foe,  and  the  stranger  would  tread  o'er  %is 
head  ;  | 

And  we  far  away  on  the  billow.  | 
Lightly  they  '11  tal&  of  the  spirit  that  *s  gone,  | 

And  o'er  Ais  cold  ashes  upbraid  Aim ;  | 
Bui  nothing  he  '11  reck,  if  they  let  him  sleep  on  | 

In  the  grave  where  a  Briton  has  laid  Aim.  | 

Bui  half  of  our  heavy  tas&  was  done,  | 

When  the  clocA;  told  the  hour  for  retiring ;  | 
And  we  knew  by  the  distant,  and  random  gun,  | 

Thai  the  foe  was  sullenly  firing.  | 
Slowly,  and  sadly  we  laid  Aim  down  | 

From  the  field  of  Ais  fame,  fresh,  and  gory :  | 
We  carv'd  not  a  line*,  —  |  we  rais'd  not  a  stone*,  | 

Bui  left  him  alone  in  Ais  glory.  | 


THE  HEAVENS  AND  THE  EARTH  SHOW  THE  GLORY  AND 
THE  WISDOM  OF  THEIR  CREATOR. THE  EARTH  HAP- 
PILY ADAPTED  TO  THE  NATURE  OF  MAN. 

(GOLDSMITH.) 

The  universe  may  be  considered  I  as  the  palace  in 
which  the  Devity  resides ;  |  and  the  earth,  as  one  of  its 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  283 

apartments.  I  In  this,  all  the  meaner  races  of  animated 
nature  I  mechanically  obeyx  him ;  I  and  stand  ready  to 
execute  his  commands  without  hesitation.  |  Man  alone 
is  found  refractory:  |  he  is  the  only  being,  I  endued 
with  a  power  of  contradicting  these  mandates,  i  The 
Deity  was  pleased  to  exert  superior  power  I  in  creating 
him  a  superior  beving;  I  a  being  endued  with  a  choice 
of  good,  and  evvil ;  |  and  capable,  in  some  measure,  |  of 
co-operating  with  his  own  intentions.  |  Man,  there- 
fore, |  may  be  considered  as  a  limited  creature,  |  en- 
dued with  powers,  I  imitative  of  those  residing  in  the 
Deity.  I  He  is  thrown  into  a  world  tha£  stands  in  need 
of  his  helpx ;  I  and  he  has  been  granted  a  power  I  of  pro- 
ducing harmony  from  partial  confusion.  ! 

If,  therefore,  we  consider  the  earth  |  as  allotted  for 
our  habitation,  |  we  shall  find,  that  much  has  been 
given  us  to  enjoy,  !  and  much  to  amend* ;  i  that  we  have 
ample  reasons  for  our  gratitude,  |  and  many  for  our  in- 
dustry. |  In  those  great  outlines  of  nature,  I  to  which 
lit  cannot  reach,  |  and  where  our  greatest  efforts  must 
nave  been  ineffectual,  |  God  himself  has  finished  every 
thing  |  with  amazing  grandeur,  and  beauty.  I  Our 
beneficent  Father  |  has  considered  these  parts  of  nature 
as  peculiarly  his  own* ;  |  as  parts  which  no  creature  | 
could  have  skill,  or  strength  to  amend^ ;  |  and  he  has, 
therefore,  made  them  incapable  of  alteration,  I  or  of 
more  perfect  regularity.  |  The  heavens,  and  the  firma- 
ment |  show  the  wisdom,  and  the  glory  of  the  Work- 
man. |  Astronomers,  who  are  best  skilled  in  the  sym- 
metry of  systems,  |  can  find  nothing  there  tha*  they  can 
alter  for  the  better.  !  God  made  these  perfect,  I  be- 
cause no  subordinate  being  |  could  correct  their  defects. 

When,  therefore,  |  we  survey  nature  on  this  side,  | 
nothing  can  be  more  splendid,  more  correct,  or  amaz- 
ing. |  We  there  behold  a  Deity  |  residing  in  the  midst 
of  a  universe,  I  infinitely  extended  ev'ery  way,  I  animat- 
ing all,  I  and  cheering  the  vacuity  with  his  presence.  | 
We  behold  an  immense,  and  shapeless  mass  of  matter,  j 


234  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

% 

formed  into  worlds  by  his  power,  I  and  dispersed  a*  in- 
tervals, |  to  which  even  the  imagination  cannoZ  travel.  I 
In  this  grea*  theatre  of  fas  glory,  I  a  thousand  suns, 
like  our  own,  |  animate  their  respective  systems,  |  ap- 
pearing, and  vanishing  &t  Divine  command.  |  We  be- 
hold our  own  bright  luminary,  i  fixed  in  the  centre  of 
its  system,  I  wheeling  its  planets  in  times  proportioned 
to  their  distances,  |  and  ait  once  dispensing  ligh£,  heat, 
and  action.  1  The  earth  also  is  seen  with  its  twofold 
motion ;  I  producing  by  the  one,  the  change  of  seasons ;  | 
and,  by  the  other,  the  grateful  vicissitudes  of  day,  and 
nigh*.  I  With  what  silent  magnificence  is  all  this  per- 
formedv  /  j  with  wha£  seeming  easev !  I  The  works  of 
art  are  exerted  with  interrupted  force;  |  and  their 
noisy  progress  discovers  the  obstructions  they  receive. ;  | 
but  the  earth,  with  a  silent,  steady  rotation,  |  succes- 
sively presents  every  part  of  its  bosom  to  the  sun- ;  |  at 
once  imbibing  nourishment,  and  Yight  |  from  that  parent 
of  vegetation,  and  fertility.  | 

Bu£  not  only  provisions  of  hea£,  and  ligh^  are  thus 
supplied  ;  |  the  whole  surface  of  the  earth  is  covered 
with  a  transparent  atmosphere  |  thaZ  turns  with  its 
motion,  |  and  guards  it  from  external  injury.  |  The 
rays  of  the  sun  are  thus  broken  into  a  genial  warmtlr;  | 
and,  while  the  surface  is  assisted,  |  a  gentle  heaZ  is  pro- 
duced in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  |  which  contributes  to 
cover  it  with  verdure.  |  Waters  also  are  supplied  in 
healthful  abundance,  |  to  support  life,  and  assist  vegeta- 
tion. |  Mountains  rise  to  diversify  the  prospect,  I  and 
give  a  current  to  the  stream.  |  Seas  extend  from  one 
continent  to  the  other,  |  replenished  with  animals  tha£ 
may  be  turned  to  human  support;  |  and  also  serving  to 
enrich  the  earth  with  a  sufficiency  of  vapour.  |  Breezes 
fly  along  the  surface  of  the  fields,  |  to  promote  health, 
and  vegetation.  I  The  coolness  of  the  evening  invites 
to  res*' ;  |  and  the  freshness  of  the  morning  renews  for 
labour.  ) 

Such  are  the  delights  of  the  habitation  I  tha*  has  been 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  28ft 

assigned  to  man* :  |  without  any  one  of  these,  |  he  must 
have  been  wretched ;  |  and  none  of  these  |  could  h is 
own  industry  have  supplied.  |  Bui  while,  on  the  one 
hand,  |  many  of  Ais  wants  are  thus  kindly  furnished,  | 
there  are,  on  the  other,  |  numberless  inconveniences  to 
excise  Ais  industry.  I  This  habitation,  I  though  provided 
with  all  the  conveniences  of  air,  pasturage,  and  water,  | 
is  but  a  desert  place,  without  human  cultivation.  I  The 
lowesi  an'imal  finds  more  conveniences  in  the  wilds  of 
nature,  I  than  he  who  boasis  himself  their  lord.  |  The 
whirlwind,  the  inundation,  and  all  the  asperities  of  the 
air,  |  are  peculiarly  terrible  to  man,  I  who  knows  their 
consequences,  |  and,  at  a  distance,  dreads  their  ap- 
proach. |  The  earth  itself,  I  where  human  art  has  noi 
pervaded,  I  puts  on  a  frightful,  gloomy  appearance.  | 
The  forests  are  dar&,  and  tangled ;  |  the  meadows  are 
overgrown  with  rank  weeds' ;  |  and  the  brooks  stray 
withoui  a  determined  channel.  I  Nature,  thai  has  baen 
kind  to  every  lower  order  of  beings,  |  seems  to  have 
been  neglectful  with  regard  to  him* :  |  to  the  savage 
uncontriving  man,  |  the  earth  is  an  abode  of  desolation,  | 
where  Ais  shelter  is  insufficient,  |  and  Ais  food  preca- 
rious. | 

A  world,  thus  furnished  with  advantages  on  one  side,  | 
and  inconveniences  on  the  other,  I  is  the  proper  abode 
of  reason,  |  and  the  fittest  to  exercise  the  industry  |  of 
a  free,  and  a  thinking  creature.  These  evils,  which 
art  can  remedy,  and  presciencea  guard  againsi,  |  are 
a  proper  call  for  the  exertion  of  Ais  faculties ;  I  and 
they  tend  still  more  |  to  assimilate  Aim  to  Ais  Creator.  | 
God  beholds,  with  pleasure,  1  thai  being  which  Ae  has 
made,  |  converting  the  wretchedness  of  Ais  natural  situa- 
tion |  into  a  theatre  of  trrumph  ;  |  bringing  all  the  head- 
long tribes  of  nature  I  into  subjection  to  Ais  wilL ;  I  and 
producing  thai  order,  and  uniformity  upon  earth,  | 
of  which  his  own  heavenly  fabric  is  so  brighi  an  ex- 
ample. | 


286  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

CHARACTER    OF    PITT. 

(  ROBERTSON.) 

•  The  secretary  stood  alone, :  |  modern  degeneracy  had 
not  reached  him.  \  Original,  and  unaccommodating,  | 
the  features  of  Ms  character,  had  the  hardihood  of  an- 
tiquity. |  His  august  mind  over-awed  majesty ;)  and 
one  of  his  sovereigns'1  I  thought  royalty  so  impaired  in 
his  presence,  I  thai  he  conspired  to  remove  him  \  in  order 
to  be  relieved  from  7iis  superiority.  |  No  state  chica'- 
nery,b  |  no  narrow  system  of  vicious  politics,  I  no  idle 
contest  for  ministerial  victories,  I  sunk  him  to  the  vul- 
gar level  of  the  great,;  |  but  over-bearing,  persuasive, 
and  impracticable,0 1  his  object  was  England,  I  his  am- 
bition was  fame^.  | 

Without  dividing,  he  destroyed^  party  ;  I  without  cor- 
rupting, he  made  a  venal  age  unanimous.  France 
sunA:  beneath  him.  \  With  one  hand  he  smote  the  house 
of  Bourbon,  |  and  wielded  in  the  other,  the  democracy 
of  England,  j  The  sigh*  of  his  mind  was  infinite ;  I  and 
his  schemes  were  to  affect,  j  not  England,  not  the  pre- 
sent age  only,  |  but  Europe,  and  posterity.  |  Wonder- 
ful were  the  means  by  which  these  schemes  were  ac- 
complished —  |  always  seasonable,  I  always  adequate,  | 
the  suggestions  of  an  understanding  |  animated  by  ar- 
dour, |  and  enlightened  by  prophecy.  | 

The  ordinary  feelings  which  make  life  amiable,  and 
indolent,  |  were  unknown^  to  him.  \  No  domestic  diffi- 
culties, |  no  domestic  weakness  reached  him]  \  butf 
aloof  from  the  sordid  occurrences  of  life,  |  and  unsul- 
lied by  its  intercourse,  |  he  came  occasionally  into  our 
system,  |  to  counsel,  and  to  decide.  | 

A  character  so  exalted,  |  so  strenuous,  I  so  various,  | 
so  authoritative,  1  astonished  a  corrupt  age  —  I  and  the 
treasury  trembled  at  the  name  of  Pitt  \  through  all  her 
classes  of  venality.  I  Corruption  imagined,  indeed,  | 

*  Sftv'er-lni.         b  Sh£-ki'nftr-r£.         c  Untractable. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  297 

thai  she  had  found  defects'  in  this  statesman,  1  and 
talked  much  of  the  inconsistency  of  his  glory,  |  and 
much  of  the  ruin  of  his  victories;  |  but  the  history  of 
Ais  country,  |  and  the  calamities  of  the  enemy,  |  an- 
swered, and  refuted  Aer.  | 

Nor  were  //is  political  abilities  Ais  only  talents:  |  his 
eloquence  was  an  era  in  the  senate,  I  peculiar,  and 
spontaneous,  |  familiarly  expressing  gigantic  sentiments,] 
and  instinctive  wis^dom ;  i  noi  like  the  torrent  of  De- 
mosthenes, |  or  the  splendid  conflagration  of  TuHy ;  |  it 
resembled  sometimes  the  thunder,  1  and  sometimes  the 
music  of  the  spheres.  |  Li&e  Murray,  I  he  did  noi  con- 
duct the  understanding  |  through  the  painful  subtlety 
of  argumentation ;  |  nor  was  Ae,  like  Townshend,  |  for 
ever  on  the  racJt  of  exertion ;  I  but  rather  lightened 
upon  the  subject,  |  and  reached  the  poini  by  the  flash- 
ings of  the  mind',  |  which,  like  those  of  Ais  eye,  |  were 
felt,  but  could  no*  be  followed.  | 

Upon  the  whole,  I  there  was  in  this  man  something 
thai  would  create',  |  subvert',  or  refornv ;  |  an  under- 
standing, |  a  spirit,  I  and  an  eloquence,  I  to  summon 
mankind  to  society,  |  or  to  break  the  bonds  of  slavery 
asunvder,  —  |  something  to  rule  the  wilderness  of  free 
minds  I  with  unbounded  authority;  |  something  that 
could  establish,  I  or  overwhelm*  empire,  |  and  stride  a 
blow  in  the  World,  |  thai  should  resound  through  the 
universe.  | 

CLARENCE'S  DREAM. 

(SHAKSPEARE.) 

SCENE  —  A  Room  in  the  Tower  of  London. 

[Enter  CLARENCE  and  BRACKENBURY.] 

Brack.  Why  looks  your  grace  so  heaVily  to-day  ?  | 
Clar.  O  I  have  pass'd  a  miserable  nighiv,  | 

So  full  of  fearful  dreams,  I  of  ugly  sights,  | 

Thai,  as  I  am  a  Christian  faithful  man,  | 


288  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

I  would  not  spend  another  such  a  nighi,  | 
Though  't  were  to  buy  a  work?  of  happy  days* :  | 
So  full  of  dismal  terror  was  the  timex.  | 

Brack.  Whai  wasv  your  dream,  my  lord'?   \  I  pray 
you,  tellx  me.  | 

Clar.  Methoughi  that  I  had  broken  from  the  tow'er, ) 
And  had  embark'd  to  cross  to  Burgundy;  | 
And,  in  my  company,  my  brother  Glosvter,  | 
Who  from  my  cabin,  |  tempted  me  to  walA; 
Upon  the  hatches ;  |  thence  we  look'd  toward  England ,  | 
And  cited  up  a  thousand  heavy  times,  | 
During  the  wars  of  Yor&,  and  Lancaster,  | 
Thai  had  befallen  us.   I   As  we  pac'd  along 
Upon  the  giddy  footing  of  the  hatches,  j 
Methoughi  that  Gloster  stunrbled,  I  and,  in  falling, 
Struck  me  I  thai  thought  to  stay  him,  \  oVer-board  | 
Into  the  tumbling  billows  of  the  main.  | 
O  methoughi  whai  pain  it  was  to  drowiix !  | 
Whai  dreadful  noise  of  water  in  mine  ears'  !a  I 
Whai  sights  of  ugly  death  within  mine  eyes*  !b  I 
Methoughi  I  saw  a  thousand  fearful  wrecks',  | 
A  thousand  menx  that  fishes  gnaw'd*  upon,  | 
Wedges  of  gold',  |  greai  anchors,  I  heaps  of  pearl ,  I 
Inestimable  stones^  I  unvalued  jewvels,  | 
All  scatter'd  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea^.  | 
^ome  lay  in  dead  men's  skulls. ;  I  2and,  in  those  holes 
Where  eyes  did  once  inhabit,  |  there  were  crepi, 
(As  't  were  in  scorn  of  eyes)  |  reflecting  gemsv  | 
Thai  woo'd  the  slimy  bottom  of  the  deep,  | 
And  mock'd  the  dead  bones  that  lay  scatter'd  by.  | 

Brock.  Had  you  such  leisure  in  the  time  of  death,  j 
To  gaze  upon  these  secrets  of  the  deep'  ?  \ 

Clar.  Methoughi  I  hadv ; !  and  often  did  I  strive 
To  yield  the  ghosiv/  |  but  still  the  envious  flood 
Kepi  in  my  soul,  |  and  would  not  let  it  forth  | 
To  seek  the  empty,  vast,  and  wand'ring  ain,  | 
Bui  smother'd  it  within  my  panting  bulA;,  | 
Which  almost  bu?-si  to  belch  it  in  the  sea.  I 

» Mine  ears ;  not  mine-nears.        b  Mine  eyes ;  not  mine-nize. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Brack    Awak'd  you  not  with  this  sore  ag'ony  ?  | 
Clar.  O  no , !  my  dream  was  lengthened  after  life* ;  | 

0  then  began  the  tempest  to  my  soul* :  | 

1  pass'd,  methoughi,  the  melancholy  flood  | 
With  thai  grim  ferryman  which  poets  write  of,  | 
Unto  the  kingdom  of  perpetual  nighi.  | 

The  firs*  that  there  did  greet  my  stranger  soul,  I 
Was  my  great  fa'ther-in-law,  I  renowned  Warwick,  | 
Who  cried  aloud,  —  I  "  Whai  scourge  for  perjury  | 
Can  this  dark  monarchy  I  afford  false  Clarence?"  | 
And  so  ^  he  vanished,   i   Then  came  wand'ring  by  ! 
A  shadow  like  an   an'gel,  I  with  bright  hair 
Dabbled  in  blood*;  I  and  he  shriek'd  out  aloud, —  | 
"  Clar'ence  is  come, —  |  falses  fleet'ing,  perjur'd  Clarence! 
That  stabb'd  me  in  the  field  by  Tewksxbury ;  —  I 
Seize  on  him,  fuVies,  |  take  him  to  your  torments !"  | 
With  thai,  methoughi  a  legion  of  foul  fiends 
Envrron'd  me,  |  and  howled  in  mine    ears 
Such  hideous  cries,) thai,  with  the  very  noise',  | 
I  trembling  wak'ds  |  and,  for  a  season  after,  I 
Could  noi  believe  bui  that  I  was  in  helK,  —  | 
Such  terrible  impression  made  my  dreamv.  ) 

Brack.  No  marvel,  lord,  that  it  affrighted  you  —  J 
I  am  afraid,  methinks,  to  hear  you  tell  it.  | 

Clar.  O  Brackenbury,  I  have  done  these  things  | 
Thai  now  give  evidence  againsi  my  soul,  | 
For  Edvward's  sake ;  I  and,  see  how  he  requites  me ! —  j 
I  pray  thee,  gentle  keeper,  I  stay  byx  me  —  | 
My  soul  is  heav\y,  I  and  I  fain  would  sleepv.  ! 

Brack.  I  will,  my  lord.  |       [clareilce  reposes  *iffiself  on  a  chair' 
Sorrow  breaks  seasons,  and  repo\sing  hours,  | 
Makes  the  nighi  morning,  |  and  the  noon-tide  nighi.v  J 
Princes  have  but  their  titles  for  their  gloxries  —  | 
An  outward  honour  for  an  inward  toil ;  | 
And,  for  unfeli  imaginations,  | 
They  often  feel  a  world  of  restless  caresx :  | 
So  thai,  between  their  titles,  I  and  low  name,  j 
There  *s  nothing  differs  I  but  the  outward  fame .  J 
25  T 


290  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

TO    THE    URSA    MAJOR. 
(H.    WARE,    JUN.) 

With  whai  a  stately,  and  majestic  step  | 

Thai  glorious  constellation  of  the  north  ] 

Treads  its  eternal  circle !  |  going  forth 

Its  princely  way  amongst  the  stars  1  in  slow, 

And  silent  brightness.   |   Mighty  one,  all-hail' !  I 

I  joy  to  see  thee,  on  thy  glowing  path,  | 

WalA:  like  some  stoui,  and  girded  grani  —  |  stern, 

Unwearied,  res  oluie,  I  whose  toiling  fooi 

Disdains  to  loiter  on  its  destined  way.  ] 

The  other  tribes  forsake  their  midnight  tracA;, ) 

And  rest  their  weary  orbs  beneath  the  wavex ; 

Bui  thou  dosi  never  close  thy  burning  eye,  | 

Nor  stay  thy  steadfast  step.   I   Rut  on,,  \  still  on%  | 

While  systems  change,  |  and  suns  retire,  I  and  worlds 

Slumber,  and  wake,  |  thy  ceaseless  march  proceeds.  | 

The  near  horizon  tempos  to  rest  in  vain.  | 

Thou,  faithful  sentinel,  |  dosi  never  quit 

Thy  long-appointed  watch ;  i  bui,  sleepless  still,  ] 

Dosi  guard  the  fix'd  light  of  the  universe,  | 

And  bid  the  north  for  ever  know  its  place,  j 

Ages  have  witness'd  thy  devoted  trusi,  ] 

Unchang'd,  unchanging.   |   When  the  sons  of  God  | 

Seni  forth  that  shoui  of  joy,  !  which  rang  thro'  heaven,  j 

And  echoed  from  the  outer  spheres    thai  bound 

The  illimitable  universe,  |  thy  voice 

Join'd  the  high  chorus ;  |  from  thy  radiant  orbs  | 

The  glad  cry  sounded,  I  swelling  to  his  praise,  | 

Who  thus  had  cast  another  sparkling  gem,  | 

Little,  but  beautiful,  |  amid  the  crowd 

Of  splendours  |  thai  enrich  his  firmameni.  | 

As  thou  art  now  I  so  wast  thou  thenx,  the  same,  j 

Ages  have  roll'd  their  course ;  |  and  time  grown  greyx;  J 
The  seas  have  chang'd  their  beds' ;  |  the  eternal  hills 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  291 

Have  stoop'd  with  age* ;  1  the  solid  continents 

Have  left  their  banks* ;  |  and  man's  imperial  works  —  | 

The  toil,  pride,  strength  of  kingdoms,  I  which  had  flung 

Their  haughty  honours  in  the  face  of  heaven,  | 

As  if  immortal  —  |  have  been  swepZ  awayx  —  | 

Shatter'd,  and  mouldering,  |  buried,  and  forgot  | 

Bu£  time  has  shed  no  dimness  on  thy  front,  | 

Nor  touched  the  firmness  of  thy  tread*:  |  youth,  strength, 

And  beauty  still  are  thine  —  |  as  clear,  as  bright  | 

As  when  the  Almighty  Former  sent  thee  forth,  | 

Beautiful  offspring  of  his  curious  skill,  | 

To  watch  earth's  northern  beacon,  I  and  proclaim 

The  eternal  chorus  of  Eternal  Love.  I 

I  wonder  as  I  gaze.   I   Thai  stream  of  ligh£,  | 

Undimm'd,  unquench'd4,  —  i  just  as  I  see  thee  now, —  | 

Has  issued  from  those  dazzling  points,  |  thro*  years 

Tha2  go  bac&  far  into  eternity.  | 

Exhaustlessa  flood  /   |  for  ever  spent,  \  renew'dx 

For  ever  !   |   Yea,  and  those  refulgent  drops,  j 

Which  now  descend  upon  my  lifted  eye,  | 

Left  their  far  fountain  twice  three  years  ago.  | 

While  those  wing'd  particles    |  whose  speed  outstrips 

The  flight  of  thought,  j  were  on  their  way,  I  the  earth 

Compass'd  its  tedious  circuit  round,  and  round,  | 

And  in  the  extremes  of  annual  change,  1  beheld 

Six  autumns  fade1, 1  six  springs  renew  their  bloom* :  | 

So  far  from  earth  those  mighty  orbs  revolve*!  | 

So  vas*  the  void  through  which  their  beams  descendv/ 1 

Yea,  glorious  lamps  of  God,  I  he  may  have  quench'd' 
Your  ancient  flames,  I  and  bid  eternal  nigh** 
Res£  on  your  spheres* ;  !  and  yet  no  tidings  reach 
This  distant  planet.   |   Messengers  still  come,  | 
Laden  with  your  far  fire,  I  and  we  may  seem 
To  see  your  lights  still  burning ;  I  while  their  blaze  ! 
Hut  hides  the  black  wreck  of  extinguished  realms^,  | 
Where  anarchy,  and  darkness  long  have  reign'd.  | 

•  Egi-h£st'l£s ;  not  £gi-zist'l£s.     k  Re-ftl'd^nt ;  not  r£-fiU'(Mnt. 


292  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Ye£  whai  is  this  1  which  to  the  astonish'd  mind 
Seems  measureless,  j  and  which  the  baffled  though? 
Confoundsv  ?   |   A  sparr,  |  a  poin^,  |  in  those  domains 
Which  the  keen  eye  can  traverse.    |   Seven  stars 
Dwell  in  thai  brilliant  cluster;  I  and  the  sighi 
Embraces  all  at  once*;  I  yet  each  from  each  | 
Recedes  as  far  as  each  of  them  from  earth4  —  | 
And  ev'ry  star  from  ev'ry  other  burns 
No  less  remote^.  | 

From  the  profound  of  heaven,  | 
Untravell'd  e'en  in  thought,  |  keen,  piercing  rays 
Dart  through  the  void,  |  revealing  to  the  sense  | 
Systems,  and  worlds  unnumber'd.   |   Ta&e  the  glass, 
And  search  the  skies.   |  The  opening  skies  pour  down 
Upon  your  gaze,  |  thick  showers  of  sparkling  firex  —  | 
Stars,  crowded,  |  throng'd',  |  in  regions  so  remote,  | 
Thai  their  swift  beams —  |  the  swiftest  things  thai  bex —  j 
Have  travell'd  centuries  on  their  flight  to  earth.  | 
Earth,  sun,  and  nearer  constellations,  I  whai 
Are  ye',  I  amid  this  infinite  extend,  I 
And  multitude  of  God's  most  infinite  works !  | 

And  these  are  suns* !  —  I  vasi,  central,  living  firesv, —  | 
Lords  of  dependent  systems, —  |  kings  of  worlds*  I 
Thai  wail  as  satellites  upon  their  power,  I 
And  flourish  in  their  smilex.   |   Awa/re  my  soul,  | 
And  meditate  the  wonder !   I  Countless  suns 
Blaze  round  thee,  I  leading  forth  their  countless  worlds^! } 
Worlds  in  whose  bosoms  living  things  rejoice,  | 
And  drink  the  bliss  of  being  I  from  the  founi 
Of  all-pervading  Love.  —  | 

Whai  mind  can  know,  | 

Whai  tongue  can  utter,  all  their  multitudes  !  I 
Thus  numberless  in  numberless  abodes !  | 
Known  but  to  thee,  bless 'd  Father !  I  Thine  they  are, ; 
Thy  children,  and  thy  carev ;  I  and  none  o'erlook'd* 
Of  thee !  —  I  no,  not  the  humblest  soul  1  thai  dwells 
Upon  the  humblesi  globe  |  which  wheels  its  course 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  293 

Amid  the  gian*  glories  of  the  sky,  | 
Li&e  the  mean  mote  that  dances  in  the  beam  J 
Amongsl  the  mirror'd  lamps  I  which  fling 
Their  wasteful  splendour  from  the  palace  wall.  | 
None,  none  escape  the  kindness  of  thy  care^;  | 
All  compass 'd  underneath  thy  spacious  wings  —  j 
Each  fee?,  and  guided. by  thy  powerful  hand .  | 

Tell  me,  ye  splendid  orbs,a —  ]  as  from  your  throne,  | 
Ye  mark  the  rolling  provinces  that  own 
Your  sway,  —  |  wha*  beings  fill  those  bright  abodes  J  j 
How  form'd^  —  |  how  gifted  —  |  what  their  powders —  j 

their  state*  —  | 

Their  hap'piness  —  |  their  wisvdom  ?   |  Do  they  bear 
The  stamp  of  human  na'ture?   I   Or  has  God 
Peopled  those  purer  realms  |  with  lovelier  forms,  | 
And  more  celestial  minds\  ?   |   Does  Innocence 
Still  wear  Aer  native,  and  untainted  bloom'  ?  | 
Or  has  Sin  breath'd  his  deadly  blight  abroad,  | 
And  sow'd  corruption  in  those  fairy  bow>ers  ?  | 

Has  War  trod  o'er  them  with  his  foot  of  fire' ;  | 

And  Slavery  forg'd  his  chains' ;  I  and  Wrath,  and  Hate,  | 

And  sordid  Selfishness,  |  and  cruel  Lus£,  I 

Leagued  their  base  bands  |  to  tread  out  light,  and  truth,  | 

And  scatter'd  wo  where  Heaven  had  planted  joy'  ?  J 

Or  are  they  yet  all  Par'adise,  I  unfallen, 

And  uncorrup^  ?  \  existence13  one  long  joy,  | 

Without  disease  upon  the  frame,  I  or  sin 

Upon  the  heart,    or  weariness  of  life\  —  | 

Hope  never  quench'ds  |  and  age  unknown',  | 

And  death  unfear'dx ;  |  while  fresh,  and  fadeless  youth  j 

Glows  in  the  lighz  from  God's  near  throne  of  lovev?  \ 

Open  your  lips',  ye  wonderful,  and  fair  !  | 

Speaks  !  speak' !  I  the  mysteries  of  those  living  worlds 

Unfold'/  |   Nolan'guage?   I   Everlasting  JighZ, 

»  Splendid  orbs ;  not  splendid  dorbs.     b  Eg-21st'£ns ;  not  £g-iist'- 
fins. 

25* 


294  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

And  everlasting  si'lence  ?  I  Ye£  the  eye 
May  read,  and  understand.   I   The  hand  of  God  \ 
Has  written  legibly  whaZ  man  may  know,  | 
The  glory  of  the  Maker.    |   There  it  shines, 
Ineffable,  I  unchangeable ;  |  and  man,  I 
Bound  to  the  surface  of  this  pigmy  glo&e,  | 
May  know,  and  asA;  no  more.  | 

In  other  days,  j 

When  death  shall  give  the  encumber'd  spirit  wings, 
Its  range  shall  be  extend*ed ;  |  it  shall  roam, 
Perchance,  |  amongst  those  vas£,  mysterious  spheres, 
Shall  pass  from  orb  to  orb,  \  and  dwell  in  eaclr,  ] 
Familiar  with  its  children, —  i  learn  their  laws,  | 
And  share  their  states  I  and  study,  and  adore  | 
The  infinite  varieties  of  bliss, 
And  beauty,  I  by  the  hand  of  Power  Divine, ! 
Lavish'd  on  all  its  works.  | 

Eternity 

Shall  thus  roll  on  |  with  ever  fresh  delight;  | 
No  pause  of  pleasure,  or  improvement ;  |  world 
On  world  J  still  opening  to  the  instructed  mind  | 
An  unexhausted*1  u'niverse,    and  time 
Bu£  adding  to  its  glovries ;  |  while  the  soul,  | 
Advancing  ever  to  the  Source  of  lighZ, 
And  all  perfection,  |  lives',  adores',  and  reigns*,  | 
In  cloudless  knowledge,  pu'rity,  and  bliss^.  | 

PERPETUAL    ADORATION. 

(MOORE.) 

The  turf  shall  be  my  fragrant  shrinev ;  | 
My  temple,  Lord,  thaZ  arch'  of  thine ;  | 
My  censer's  breath,  the  mountain  airs',  | 
And  silent  thoughts,  my  only  prayxers.  | 

My  choir  shall  be  the  moonlight  waves',  j 
When  murmuring  homeward  to  their  caves*; 


Un-6gi-h&st'£d ;  not  ftn-£gi-zist'£d. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  295 

Or  when  the  stillness  of  the  sea',  | 

E'en  morex  than  music  breathes  of  thee..  | 

I  Ml  seek,  by  day,  some  glade  unknowns  | 
All  \ight,  and  silence,  Yike  thy  thrones,  | 
And  the  pale  stars  shall  be,  at  night',  \ 
The  only  eyes  that  watch  my  ritev.  | 

Thy  heaven,  on  which  't  is  bliss  to  looA;',  | 
Shall  be  my  pure,  and  shining  book.,  \ 
Where  I  shall  read,  in  words  of  flame%  | 
The  glories  of  thy  wondrous  name .  | 

I  Ml  read  thy  anger  in  the  rack1    \ 

That  clouds  awhile  the  dayx-beam's  track, ;  j 

Thy  mercy,  in  the  azure  hue'    | 

Of  sunny  brightness,  breaking  throughv.  ] 

There 's  nothing  bright,  above',  belowv,  j 
From  flowers  that  bloom',  to  stars  that  glow, 
'But  in  its  light   my  soul  can  see    | 
Some  feature  of  thy  Deity !  | 

There 's  nothing  dar/c,  below',  abovex,  | 
Bu£  in  its  gloom  I  trace  thy  love* ;  | 
And  meekly  wai£  that  moment,  when    | 
Thy  touch    shall  turn  all  bright  again.  | 


SCENE  FROM  PIZARRO. 

(KOTZEBUE.) 

PIZARRO  and  DAVILLA  in  conversation. 

[Enter  GOMEZ.] 

Piz.  How  now,  Gomez !  |  what  bring'est  thou  ?  I 
Gom.  On  yonder  hill,  among  the  palm-trees,  I  we 
have  surprised  an  old  cacique^*:  I  escape  by  flight  he 
could  not,  |  and  we  seized  him,  and  his  attendant  un- 

•  K&s-s&k',  a  prince,  or  nobleman,  among  the  Indians. 


296  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

resisting ;  |  yet  his  lips  breathed  nought  but  bitterness, 
and  scorn.  1 

Piz.  Drag  Aim  before  us.  | 

[GOMEZ  leaves  the  tent,  and  returns,  conducting  ORO- 
ZEMBO,  and  attendants,  in  chains,  guarded.] 

What  artv  thou,  stranger  ?  | 

Oro.  First  tell  me  which  among  you,  is  the  cap'tain 
of  this  band  of  robbers.  I 

Piz.  Ha !  I 

Dav.  Mad'man !  I  tear  out  Ais  tongue^  or  else j 

Oro.  Thou  '\t  hear  some  truth.  | 

Dav.  (showing  his  poignard.)  Shall  I  not  plunge  this  into 
his  heart'  ?  I 

Oro.  (topizarro.)  Does  your  army  boasZ  many  such 
heroes  as*  this'  ?  | 

Piz.  Audacious  I  |  This  insolence  has  sealed  thy 
dooniv :  |  die  thou  shal^,  grey-headecj  ruffian.  |  Bu£  firs* 
confess  what  thou  knowes£.  | 

Oro.  I  know  thai  which  thou  hasZ  just  assured*  me 
of —  |  tha*  I  shall  die.  | 

Piz.  Less  audacity,  perhaps,  |  might  have  preserved 
thy  life.  | 

Oro.  My  life  is  as  a  withered  treex :  I  it  is  not  worth* 
preserving.  | 

Piz.  Hear  me,  old  man.  |  Even  nowv,  we  march 
against  the  Peruvian  army.  |  We  know -there  is  a 
secret  path  I  thai  leads  to  your  strong-hole?  among  the 
rocks* :  |  guide  us  to  tha^,  |  and  name  thy  reward.  |  If 
wealth  be  thy  wish | 

Oro.  Ha!  ha!  ha!| 

Piz.  Dost  thou  despise  my  offer  ?  | 

Oro.  Thee,  and  thy  offer.   |  Wealth !   I   I  have  the 
wealth  of  two  dear  gallant  sonss  I  I  have  stored  in 
heaven,  the  riches  which  repay  good  actions  here' ; 
and  still  my  chiefes£  treasure  do  I  bear  abouZv  me.  | 

Piz.  What  is  tha£\  ?   |   Infornr  me.  I 

Oro.  I  will* ;  |  for  it  never  can  be  thine^  —  I  the  trea- 
sure of  a  pure,  unsullied  conscience,  j 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  297 

Piz.  I  believe  there  is  no  other  Peruvian  who  dares 
speak  as  thoir  dost.  | 

Oro.  Would  I  could  believe  there  is  no  other  Span- 
iard who  dares  act  as  thoux  dost.  | 

Gom.  Obdurate  Pagan !  |  How  numerous  is  your 
army  ?  | 

Oro.  CounJ  the  leaves  of  yonder  fores*.  I 

Dav.  Which  is  the  weakest  part  of  your  camp  ?  \ 

Oro.  It  hasx  no  wea&  part ;  I  on  every  side  't  is  forti- 
fied by  justice.  | 

Piz.  Where  have  you  concealed  your  wives,  and 
children  ?  | 

Oro.  In  the  hearts  of  their  husbands,  and  their  fa- 
thers. | 

Piz.  KnowesZ  thou  Alonzo  ?  I 

Oro.  Know  him  ?  I  Alonzo  ?  I  Know  Aim  ?  !  Our 
nation's  benefactor !  I  The  guardian  angel  of  Peru* !  | 

Piz.  By  wha*  has  he  merited  that  title  ?  j 

Oro.  By  not  resembling  thee.  | 

Dav.  Who  is  this  RoHa,  joined  with  Alonzo  in  com- 
mand ?  \ 

Oro.  I  will  answer  thaZ ;  I  for  I  love  to  hear,  and  to 
repeal  the  hero's  name.  Rolla,  the  kinsman  of  the 
king,  |  is  the  idol  of  our  army;  |  in  war,  a  tiger,  |  chafed 
by  the  hunter's  spear, ;  I  in  peace,  |  more  gentle  than 
the  unweaned  lamb.  |  Cora  was  once  betrothed*  to 
Aim ;  I  but  finding  that  she  preferred  Alonzo,  |  he  re- 
signed Ais  claim*,  |  and,  I  fear,  his  peace*,  |  to  friendship, 
and  to  Cora's  happiness ;  I  jet  still  he  loves  her  with  a 
pure,  and  holy  fire.  | 

Piz.  Romantic  savage!  I  I  shall  mee^  this  Rolla 
soon'.  | 

Oro.  Thou  hadsZ  better  not.  —  |  The  terrors  of  his 
noble  eye  would  strike  thee  dead.  I 

Dav.  Silence !  or  trenrble  !  | 

Oro.  Beardless  robber  !  |  I  never  yet  have  trembled 
before  man' :  I  why  should  I  tremble  before  thee',  |  thou 
lessx  than  man !  I 


298  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Dav   Another  word,  audacious  heathen,  and  I  stride.  ; 

Oro.  Stride',  Christian!  I  Then  boas*  among  thy 
fellows  —  1 1  too  have  murdered  a  Peruvian  !  | 

Dav.  Ven'geance  seizex  thee  !  [stabs  him 

Ph.  Hold' !  | 

Dav.  CouldsZ  thou  longer  have  endured  Ais  insults  ?  | 

Piz.  And  therefore  should  he  die  untortured  ?  \ 

Oro.  True* !  I  Observe,  young  man',  I  your  unthink- 
ing rashness  |  has  saved  me  from  the  rac&x;  land  you 
yourself  have  lost  the  opportunity  of  a  useful  lesson  :  | 
you  migh£  have  seen  with  wha£  cruelty  |  vengeance 
would  have  inflicted  torments  —  I  and  with  wha*  pa- 
tience |  virtue  would  have  borne  them.  I 

[OROZEMBO  is  borne  off,  dying. 

Piz.  Awayv !  —  |  Davilla,   if  thus   rash   a   second 

time j 

Dav.  Forgive  the  hasty  indignation  which ] 

Piz.  No  morex.  I  Unbind  that  trembling  wretch  :  | 
let  him  depart  ;  |  't  is  well  he  should  report  the  mercy  | 
which  we  show  to  insolent  defiance.  I  HarkN!  |  Our 

,  and  guides  approach.  I       [Soldiers  march  through  the  tents. 

Follow  me,  friends !  |  Each  shall  have  his  post  as- 
signed ;  |  and  ere  Peruvians  god  shall  sink  beneath  the 
main,  |  the  Spanish  banners,  bathed  in  blood,  |  shall 
floa£  above  the  walls  of  vanquished  Quito.a  | 


(MRS.  SOUTHEY.) 

Launch  thy  bark\  Mariner !  | 

Christian,  God  speed*  thee! 
Le£  loose  the  rudxder-bands — 

Good  angels  leadx  thee!  | 
Se*  thy  sails  wa'rily,  | 

Tem^pesifs  will  come\ ;  I 
Steer  thy  course  steadvily,  I 

Christian,  steer  homex !  I 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  299 

Loo&  to  the  weath'er-bow,  | 

Breakers  are  round  thee;  | 
Lei  fall  the  plumvme£  now,  | 

Shallows  may  ground  thee.  | 
Reef  in  the  fore'-sail,  there* !  | 

Hold  the  helm*  fasfj  I 
Sov  —  I  let  the  vessel  ware'  —  | 

There  swepi  the  blas£v.  | 

Wha£  of  the  nigh£v,  watch'man  ?  J 

What  of  the  nigh^  ?  \ 
'Cloudy —  |  all  quLeJ —  J 

No  land'  yet—  \  all 's  right,.'  | 
Be  wake'ful,  I  be  vig'ilanZ  —  | 

Danger  may  be     | 
At  an  hour  when  all  seemeth     j 

Secures*  to  thee.  | 

How* !  1  gains  the  leaA:  so  fas*'  ?  \ 

Clean  out  the  holc?v  —  | 
Hois*  up  thy  merchandise,  | 

Heave  out  thy  goldv; —  I 
Thera —  I  let  the  ingots  gov —  | 

Now  the  ship  rightsv;  | 
Hurrah^ !  |  the  harbour 's  near*  —  | 

Lo,  the  red  lights^!  | 

Slacken  not  sail  yet'  \ 

At  \nlet  or  isl^anc? ;  | 
Straight  for  the  beavcona  steer,  | 

Straight  for  the  highland;  | 
Crowe?  all  thy  canxvass  on*,  | 

Cu^  through  the  foanr —  I 
Christian !  cas£  an'chor  now^  —  | 

Heaven  is  thy  homet !  | 

•B^'kn. 


300  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 


ELEGY    WRITTEN    IN    A    COUNTRY    CHURCH-YARD. 

(GRAY.) 

The  curfew  tolls^  —  |  the  knell  of  parting  dayt  !  | 
The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  leax  ;  | 

The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way,  j 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness,  and  to  mex.  j 

Now  fades  the  glimm'ring  landscape*  on  the  sigh^, 
And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds',  | 

Save  where  the  beetle  wheejs  his  droning  flight',  j 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds,  :  \ 

Save,  thaZ  from  yonder  ivy-rnantled  tower,  | 
The  moping  owl  does  to  the  moon  complain    j 

Of  such  as,  wand'ring  near  7*er  secret  bower,  | 
Molest  her  ancient,  solitary  reign. 


Beneath  those  rugged  elms'  ;  I  that  yew-tree's  shades  I 
Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  mould'ring  heap',  | 

Each  in  fas  narrow  cell  for  ever  laid',  | 
The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleepv.  | 

The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morns  | 

The  swallow,  twitt'ring  from  the  straw-buik  shedv,  | 

The  cock's  shrill  cla'rion,  or  the  echoing  honr,  | 
No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bedv.  | 

For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth^  shall  burn,  | 
Or  busy  housewife6  ply  her  evening  cam  ;  | 

Nor  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  retunr,  | 
Or  climb  fas  knees',  the  envied  kissv  to  share.  | 

Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sicHe  yieldv/  | 

Their  furrow   oft  the  stubborn  glebex  has  broAe*;  | 

How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  afield'!  j 

How  bow'd  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroA;ex  !  | 

"L&nd'skip;  not  Idnd'sklp.  bH&i'wlf. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  301 

Let  not  ambition  mock  their  useful  toil,  ] 
Their  homely  joys,  and  destiny  obscure* ;  | 

Nor  grandeur  hear,  with  a  disdainful  smile',  | 
The  short,  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor(.  | 

The  boas*  of  heraldry,  I  the  pomp  of  pow'er,  | 

And  all  that  beauty,    all  that  wealth' ,  e'er  gavev,  | 

A  waif,  ali&e,  the  inevitable  noun  —  | 

The  paths  of  glory  n  lead  but  to  the  gravev.  | 

Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fauk,,  | 
If  mem'ry  o'er  their  tomb  no  trophies  raise', } 

Wherethrough  the  long-drawn  aisle,  arid  fretted  vault',  j 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praisev.  | 

Can  storied  urn,  or  animated  bus*', 

BacA:  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breatL  1  \ 

Can    honour's  voice  provoAe  the  silent  dus£x,  | 
Or  flattery    soothe    the  dull,  cold  ear  of  death/h 

Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spo£,  is  laid'  | 

Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  firex ;  | 

Hands  that  the  rod  of  enVpire  might  have  sway'd*,  ] 
Or  waA-'d  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyrex.  | 

Bu£  knowledge  to  their  eyes  Aer  ample  page7,  | 
Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll ;  | 

Chill  penury  repress'dx  their  noble  rage',  | 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  souK  | 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene-,  | 

The  dark,  unfathom'd  caves  of  ovcean  (  bean  ;  | 

Full  many  a  flow  er  (  is  born  to  blush  unseen1,  | 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  airt.a  | 

Some  village  Hampden  that,  with  dauntless  breast,  | 
The  little  tyrant  of  his  fields^  withstoodv ;  | 

Some  mute,  inglorious  MiHon,  here  may  rest1 ;  | 
Some  CronVwell,  guiltless  of //is  country's  blood.  | 

a  Desert  air ;  not  dez-zer-tair. 
26 


302  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

The  applause  of  listening  senates  to  command',  | 
The  threats  of  pain,  and  ruin  to  despises  | 

To  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land', 

And  read  their  hist'ry  in  a  nation's  eyes',  ; 

Their  lot  forbade*  —  I  nor  circumscrib'd  alone'    | 
Their  growing  virtues  ;  j  but,  their  crimes'  confin'd1, 

Forbade  to  wade  through  slaughter  to  a  thrones  ! 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind*  ;  | 

The  struggling  pangs  of  conscious  truth*  to  hide*,  | 
To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  shames  | 

Or  heap  the  shrine  of  luxury,  and  pride',  | 
With  incense    kindled  at  the  muse's  flamex.  | 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife',  I 
('  Their  sober  wishes  never  learn'dx  to  stray,) 

2Along  the  cool,  sequester'd  vale  of  life',  | 
They  kep£  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  wayx.  | 


e'en  these  bones,  from  insuk  to  protect,  | 
Some  frail  memorial  still',  erected  nigh',  | 
With  uncouth  rhymes,  and  shapeless  sculpture  deck'd',  | 
Implores  the  passing  tribute  of  a  sigtu  | 

Their  names',  their  years',  spell'd  by  the  unletter'd  muse',| 
The  place  of  fame,  and  elegy,  supply*  ;  | 

And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews',  | 
Thai  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  diex.  | 

For  who,  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey,  | 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being   e'er  resign'd',  | 

Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day,  | 
Nor  cast  one  longing,  ling'ring  looA:  behindv  ?  \ 

On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul    relies'  ;  | 
Some  pious  drops   the  closing  eye  requires*  ;  | 

E'en  from  the  tombv  ,  the  voice  of  nature  cries',  \ 
E'en  in  our  ashves  live  their  wonted  firesx.  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  303 

For  thee  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonour'd  dead',  i 
DOS*  in  these  lines  their  artless  tale  relate',  | 

If,  chance,  by  lonely  contemplation  led',  | 
Some  kindred  spirit  shall  inquire  thy  fate',  | 

Haply  some  hoary-headed  swain  may  say,  | 
"  Oft  have  we  seen  him  at  the  peep  of  dawn',  | 

Brushing,  with  hasty  step,  the  dews  away,  | 
To  mee£  the  sun  upon  the  upland  lawn^.  | 

There,  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech'   | 
Thai  wreathes  its  old  fantastic  roots  so  high',  | 

His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch',  | 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  bubbles  byx.  | 

Hard  by  yon  wood,  now  smiling  as  in  scorn',  | 
Mutt'ring  his  wayward  fancies,  he  would  rove' ;  j 

Now  droop'ing,  wo'ful,  wan>,  I  like  one  forlorn', 
Or  craz'd  with  care%  \  or  cross'd  in  hopeless 

One  morn  I  miss'dv  him  on  the  accustomed  hilb,  | 
Along  the  heathx,    and  near  Ais  fav'rite  tree* ;  | 

Another  came  ;  |  nor  yet  beside  the  rill',  j 

Nor  up  the  lawn',  1  nor  at  the  wood*  was  het.  | 

The  nex£,  with  dirges  due,  in  sad  array,  | 

Slow  through  the  church-yard  patfr,  we  saw  him 
borne*  —  | 

Approach,  and  read'  ('for  thou  canst  read')  2the  layx,  | 
'Graved  on  the  stone  beneath  yon  aged  thorn ." 


THE      EPITAPH. 

Here  rests  Ais  head  upon  the  lap  of  earth',  | 
A  youth  to  Fortune,  and  to  Fame,  unknown* ;  | 

Fair  Science  frown'd  not  on  7ns  humble  birth',  | 
And  Melancholy  mark'd  7/im  for  her  ownk.  | 


104  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Large  was  his  bounty,  and  fas  soul,  sincere* —  | 
Heaven  did  a  recompense  as  largely  send  —  | 

He  gave  to  Mis'ry  all  he  had',  a  tear ;  | 
He  gain'd  from  Heav'n  |  (' 'twas  all  he  wish'd^)  I 
friendv.  | 

No  farther  seek  his  merits  to  .disclose',  | 
Or  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abodes  | 

('There  they  alike  in  trembling  hope  repose^)  | 
2The  bosom  of  his  Father,  and  his  Godv.  | 


(HOME.) 

My  name  is  Norval ;  )  on  the  Grampian  hills  | 

My  father  feeds  his  flocksv ;  j  a  frugal  swain    I 

Whose  constant  cares  |  were  to  increase  his  store',  | 

And  keep  his  only  son,  myself,  at  homev :  | 

For  I  had  heard  of  bat'tles,  |  and  I  long'd 

To  follow  to  the  field  some  warlike  lord' ;  | 

And  heaven  soon  granted  wha£  my  sire  deniedx  /  | 

This  moon,  which  rose  last  nigh*,  round  as  my  shield,  | 
Had  not  yet  fill'd  her  horns,    when  by  Aer  light,  \ 
A  band  of  fierce  barbarians  from  the  hills,  I 
Rush'd  like  a  torrent  down  upon  the  valex,  I 
Sweeping  our  flocks,  and  herds,   j   The  shepherds  fled 
For  safety,  and  for  succour.    |  I,  alone% 
With  bended  bow,  and  quiver  full  of  arrows,  | 
Hover'd  about  the  enemy,  I  and  mark'd 
The  road  he  took, :  \  then  hasted  to  my  friends*  | 
Whom,  with  a  troop  of  fifty  chosen  men,  | 
I  met  advancing.   |   The  pursuit  Iv  led,  | 
Till  we  o'ertooA;x  the  spoil-encumber'd  foe^.  | 

We  fought,  and  conquer'd.  |  Ere  a  sword  was  drawn,  | 
An  arrow  from  my  bow  had  pierc'd  their  chief  | 
Who  wore,  tha£  day,  the  arms  which  now  Ix  wearx.  | 
Returning  home  in  triumph,  |  I  disdain'd* 
The  shepherd's  slothful  life^ ;  |  and,  having  heard  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  305 

That  our  good  king  had  summon'd  Ms  bold  peers  j 
To  lead  their  warriors  to  the  Carron  side,  | 
I  left  my  father's  housex,  I  and  took  with  me  | 
A  chosen  servant  I  to  conduct  my  stepsx  —  | 
lYon  trembling  coward  who  forsook  h\s  master.  I 
2Journeying  with  this  intend,    I  pass'd  these  towvers,  | 
And,  heaven-directed,  I  came  this  day  to  do  | 
The  happy  deed  thai  gilds  my  humble  name.  | 

THE   GRAVE   OP    FRANKLIN. 
(MISS   C.  H.  WATERMAN.) 

No  chisell'd  urn  is  rear'd  to  theev;  | 
No  sculptured  scroll  enrolls  its  page  | 

To  tell  the  children  of  the  free',  | 

Where  rests  the  patriot,  and  the  sagev.  | 

Far  in  the  city  of  the  dead',  | 

A  corner  holds  thy  sacred  clayx;  | 

And  pilgrim  feei,  by  reverence  led',  | 

Have  worn  a  path  thai  marks  the  wayx.  | 

There,  round  thy  lone,  and  simple  grave',  | 
Encroaching  on  its  marble  gray,  j 

Wild  plantain  weeds,  and  tall  grass  wave',  | 
And  sunbeams  pour  their  shadeless  rayv.  | 

Level  with  earths  thy  lettered  stone' —  j 
And  hidden  oft  by  winter's  snowx —  | 

Its  modesi  record  tells  alone'  | 

Whose  dust  it  is  thai  sleeps  belowv.*  I 

Thai  name's  enough^ —  |  thai  honour'd  name'| 

No  aid  from  eulogy  requiresv :  | 
'T  is  blended  with  thy  country's  fame',  | 

And  flashes  round  her  lightning  spiresx.  | 

*  The  body  of  Franklin  lies  in  Christ-Church  burying-grouml, 
corner  of  Mulberry  and  Fifth  street,  Philadelphia.  The  inscription 
upon  his  tomb-stone  is  as  follows : 

BENJAMIN  ) 

AND         C  FRANKLIN 
Oft*  DEBORAH    } 

1790 

U 


306  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 


STATE-HOITSE,  PHILADELPHIA.* 


DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE. 

(JEFFERSON.) 

When,  in  the  course  of  human  everts,  |  \t  becomes 
necessary  for  one  people  |  to  dissolve  the  political  bands 
which  have  connected  them  with  another,  I  and  to  as- 
sume among  the  powers  of  the  earth  I  the  separate  and 
equal  station  |  to  which  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  na- 
ture's God  entitle  them,  I  a  decent  respect  to  the  opin- 
ions of  mankind  |  requires  that  they  should  declare  the 
causes  I  which  impel  them  to  the  separation.  I 

We  hole?  these  truthsa  to  be  self-evident :  I  that  all 
men  are  created  evqual ;  |  that  they  are  endowed  by  their 
Creator  |  with  certain  inalienable6  rights^ ;  |  that  among 
these  |  are  life',  lib'erty,  and  the  pursuit  of"  hapvpiness ;  ] 
thaZ  to  secure  these  rights,  !  governments0  are  insti- 

*  The  Declaration  of  Independence  was  publicly  read  from  the 
steps  of  the  State-House,  July  4th,  1776. 

»  Truths ;  not  truxni.      b  In-il'y&n-ji-bl.      °  Guv'urn-m&nts. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  307 

tuted  among  men*,  I  deriving  their  jusi  powers  |  from 
the  consent  of  the  gov>erned  ;  |  that  whenever  any  form 
of  government !  becomes  destructive  of  these  ends,  |  it 
is  the  righi  of  the  people  I  to  alter  or  aboHsh  it,  |  and 
to  institute  new  government,  I  laying  its  foundation  on 
such  principles,  I  and  organizing  its  powers  in  such 
form,  |  as  to  them  shall  seem  most  likely  I  to  effect  their 
safety  and  happiness.  |  Prudence,  indeed,  will  dic- 
tate |  thai  governments  long  established  |  should  not  be 
changed  for  lighi  and  trairsienl*  causes;  |  and  accord-, 
ingly  all  experience  hath  shown  I  thai  mankind  are  more 
disposed  to  suffer  |  while  evils  are  sufferable,  |  than  to 
righi  themselves  |  by  abolishing  the  forms  to  which 
they  are  accustomed.  I  Bui  when  a  long  train  of 
abuses  and  usurpations1'  I  pursuing  invariably  the  same 
object,  |  evinces  a  design0  to  reduce  them  under  abso- 
lute despotism,  |  it  is  their  righix,  |  it  is  their  duvty  j  to 
throw  off v  such  government,  I  and  to  provide  new  guards 
for  their  future  security.  |  Such  has  been  the  patieni 
sufferance  of  these  colonies;11  I  and  such  is  now  the 
necessity  |  which  constrains  them  to  alter  their  former 
systems  of  gov^ernmeni.  |  The  history  of  the  present 
king  of  Greai  Britain  I  is  a  history  of  repeated  injuries 
and  usurpations,1*  I  all  having  in  direct  object  |  the  esta- 
blishment of  an  absolute  tyranny  over  these  states.  | 
To  prove  this,  |  let  facts  be  submitted  to  a  candid 
worldt.  | 

He  has  refused  fas  asseni  to  laws  |  the  most  whole- 
some and  necessary  for  the  public  good,  j 

He  has  forbidden  fas  governors  to  pass  laws  |  of  im- 
mediate and  pressing  importance,  I  unless  suspended  in 
their  operation  I  till  fas  assent  should  be  obtained ;  | 
and,  when  so  suspended,  |  he  has  utterly  neglected  to 
attend^  to  them.  | 

He  has  refused  to  pass  other  laws  I  for  the  accommo- 
dation of  large  districts  of  people,  |  unless  those  people  j 

b  Yi-zftr-pi'shftni. 


308  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

would  relinquish  the  right  of  representation  in  the 
legislature,8  1  a  righ*  inestimable  to  them,  |  and  formi- 
dable to  tyrants  only.  | 

He  has  called  together  legislative  bodies  |  a£  places 
umrsual,  I  uncomfortable,  |  and  distant  from  the  deposi- 
tory11 of  their  public  records,  |  for  the  sole  purpose  |  of 
fatiguing  them  into  compliance  with  his  measures.  | 

He  has  dissolved  representative  houses  repeatedly  j 
for  opposing  with  manly  firmness  |  his  invasions  on  the 
rights  of  the  people.  ] 

He  has  refused  for  a  long  time  after  such  dissolu- 
tions |  to  cause  others  to  be  elected,  1  whereby  the  legis- 
lative powers,  |  incapable  of  annihilation,6  I  have  re- 
turned to  the  people  a.t  large  for  their  exercise,  I  the 
state  remaining,  in  the  mean  time,  I  exposed  to  all  the 
dangers  of  invasion  from  without  |  and  convulsions 
within.  | 

He  has  endeavoured  to  prevent  the  population  of 
these  states  ;  I  for  that  purpose  I  obstructing  the  laws 
for  naturalization11  of  foreigners,  (refusing  to  pass  others  | 
to  encourage  their  migrations  hittrer,  I  and  raising  the 
conditions  |  of  new  appropriations  of  lands.  | 

He  has  obstructed  the  administration  of  justice  |  by 
refusing  fas  assent  to  laws  i  for  establishing  judrciary8 
powers.  | 

He  has  made  judges  dependent  on  his  will  alone'  | 
for  the  tenuref  of  their  of  fices,  I  and  the  amount,  and 
payment  of  their  salaries.  | 

He  has  erected  a  multitude  of  new  offices,  I  and  sent 
hither  swarms  of  new  of  ficers  |  to  harass"  our  people 
and  ea£  out  their  substance.  | 

He  has  kept  among  us  in  times  of  peace'  I  standing 
armies  |  without  the  consent  of  our  legislatures.  | 

He  has  affected  to  render  the  military  |  independent 
of,  |  and  superior  to  the  civvil  power,  j 

He  has  combined  with  others  |  to  subject  us  to  a 


c  An-ni-h£-]i'sMn.    d  Ndt- 
tshfc-r&l-e-ii'sh&n.     *  Dai-dlsh'&-r£.     {  T£'nur.     *  Hlr'ris. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  309 

jurisdiction  |  foreign11  to  our  constitutions  |  and  unac- 
knowledged by  our  laws*,  |  giving  his  assent  |  to  their 
acts  of  pretended  legislation  I  for  quartering  large  bo- 
dies of  armed  troops'  among  us ;  |  for  protecting  them 
by  a  mock  trial  \  from  punishment  |  for  any  murders 
which  they  should  commit  j  on  the  inhabitants  of  these 
states^  |  for  cutting  off  our  tradex  with  all  parts  of  the 
worldx  ,•  I  for  imposing  tax'es  on  us  without  our  consent ;  1 
for  depriving  us  in  many  cases  I  of  the  benefits  of  trial 
by  jury ;  I  for  transporting  us  beyond  seas'  |  to  be  tried 
for  pretended  offences ;  |  for  abolishing  the  free  system 
of  English  laws  I  in  a  neighbouring  province,  (establish- 
ing therein  I  an  arbitrary  government,  |  and  enlarging 
its  boundaries,  I  so  as  to  ronder  it  at  once  an  example  J 
and  fit  instrument  I  for  introducing  the  same  absolute 
rule  into  these  cobonies ;  i  for  taking  away  our  char'ters,| 
abolishing  our  most  valuable  laws1,  |  and  altering  fun- 
damentally |  the  forms  of  our  governments ;  |  for  sus- 
pending our  own  legislatures,  I  and  declaring  them- 
selues'  invested  with  power  to  legislate  for  us  |  in  all 
cases  whatsoev^er.  | 

He  has  abdicated  government  here  I  by  declaring  us 
out  of  Ais  protection  I  and  waging  war  against  us.  j 

He  has  plundered  our  seasv,  |  ravaged  our  coas£s\  | 
burnt  our  towns',  |  and  destroyed  the  lives  of  our 
e.  | 

He  is  at  this  timex  |  transporting  large  armies  of  fo- 
reign mercenaries  |  to  complete  the  works  of  death',  | 
desola'tion,  and  tyranny  I  already  begun*  |  with  circum- 
stances of  cruelty  and  perfidy  j  scarcely  paralleled  in 
the  mosZ  barbarous  ages  |  and  totally  unworthy  the 
head  of  a  civalized  nation.  | 

He  has  constrained  our  fellow-citizens  |  taken  captive 
on  the  high  seas  I  to  bear  arms  against  their  country, ; 
to  become  the  executioners  of  their  friends  and  breth  - 
ren,  |  or  to  fall  themselves  by  their  hands.  | 

He  has  excited  domestic  insurrections  among  us,  i 

.*  FAr'rlaT 


310  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

and  has  endeavoured  to  bring  |  on  the  inhabitants  of 
our  frontiers  |  the  merciless  Indian  savages,  I  whose 
known  rule  of  warfare  |  is  an  undistinguished  destruc- 
tion |  of  all  a'ges,  sex'es,  and  conditions.  | 

In  every  stage  of  these  oppressions  I  we  have  peti- 
tioned for  redress  in  the  most  humble  terms* :  I  our  re- 
peated petitions  |  have  been  answered  only  by  repeated 
injuries.  | 

A  prince  whose  character  is  thus  marked  |  by  every 
act  which  may  define-a.  tyrant  |  is  unfit  to  be  the  ruler 
of  a  free  people.  | 

Nor  have  we  been  wanting  in  attentions  to  our  Brit- 
ish brethren.  |  We  have  warned  them  from  time  to 
time  |  of  attempts  by  their  legislature  I  to  extend  an  un- 
warrantable jurisdiction  over  us.  I  We  have  reminded 
them  of  the  circumstances  I  of  our  emigration  and  set'- 
tlemenZ  here:  I  we  have  appealed  to  their  native  jus- 
tice and  magnanimity,  ]  and  we  have  conjured  them 
by  the  ties  of  our  common  kindred,  I  to  disavow'3  these 
usurpations  |  which  would  inevitably  interrupt  our 
connexion  and  correspond*ence.  I  They  too  have  been 
deaf  to  the  voice  of  justice  and  of  consanguinity.  |  We 
must  therefore  acquiesce  in  the  necessity  I  which  de- 
nounces our  separation !  I  and  hold  them  as  we  hold 
the  res^  of  mankind,  I  enemies  in  war,  |  in  peace  friends.  | 

We  therefore  I  the  representatives  of  the  United 
States  of  America  1  in  General  Congress  assembled,  j 
'appealing  to  the  Supreme  Judge  of  the  world  I  for  the 
rectitude  of  our  intentions,  1 2do  in  the  name,  |  and  by 
the  authority  of  the  good  people  of  these  colonies,  |  so- 
lemnly publish  and  declares  j  thai  these  united  colonies 
are,  |  and  of  right  ought'  to  be,  i  free  and  independent 
states* ;  I  thai  they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to 
the  British  crowns  I  and  that  all  political  connexion  | 
between  them  and  the  state  of  Greai  Britain  i  is,  and 
oughi'  to  be,  |  totally  dissolved* ;  I  and  thai  as  free  and 


Dls-d-vou. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION'.  311 

independent  states,  I  they  have  full  power  to  levy  war,  I 
conclude  peace1,  |  contract  allrances,  I  establish  comv- 
merce,  j  and  to  do  all  other  acts  and  things  I  which 
independent  states  may  of  righ^  do.  | 

And  for  the  support  of  this  declaration,  |  'with  a  firm 
reliance  on  the  protection  of  Divine  Providence,  1 2we 
mutually  pledge  to  each  other  our  lives',  I  our  for- 
tunes, |  and  our  sacred  honxour.  | 


THE   JOURNEY    OF    A    DAY,    A    PICTURE   OF    HUMAN    LIFE. 

(DR.  JOHNSON.) 

Obidah,  the  son  of  Abensina,  I  left  the  caravansera 
early  in  themoriring,  |  and  pursued  Ais  journey  through 
the  plains  of  Indosvtan.  |  He  was  fresh,  arid  vigorous 
with  resfx ;  |  he  was  animated  with  hope' ;  he  was  in- 
cited by  desire^ ;  I  he  walked  swiftly  forward  over  the 
va'lleys,  |  and  saw  the  hills  gradually  rising  before*  him.  | 

As  he  passed  along,  I  his  ears  were  delighted  with 
the  morning  song  of  the  bird  of  paradise;  1  he  was 
fanned  by  the  las*  flutters  of  the  sinking  breeze',  |  and 
sprinkled  with  dew  from  groves  of  spices.  I  He  some- 
times contemplated  the  towering  height  of  the  oaA;*,  1 
monarch  of  the  hilta  ;  !  and  sometimes  caught  the  gentle 
fragrance  of  the  prinrrose,  I  eldest  daughter  of  the 
spring :  I  all  his  senses  were  gratified,  1  and  all  care 
was  banished  from  fas  hear/ .  | 

Thus  he  went  on,  I  till  the  sun  approached  his  me- 
ridian, |  and  the  increased  heat  preyed  upon  his 
strength ;  |  he  then  looked  round  about  him  \  for  some 
more  commodious  path.  |  He  saw,  on  his  right  hand, 
a  grovex  |  that  seemed  to  wave  its  shades  as  a  sign  of 
invitation ;  I  he  entered  it,  i  and  found  the  coolness,  and 
verdure  irresistibly  pleasant.  | 

He  did  not,  however,  I  forge*  whither  he  was  travel- 
ling,11 |  but  found  a  narrow  way,  bordered  with  flowers,  | 

*  Tr&v'il-llng. 


312  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

which  appeared  to  have  the  same  direction  with  the 
main  road;  I  and  was  pleased,  I  thai  by  this  happy 
experiment,  |  he  had  found  means  to  unite  pleasure  with 
buxsiness,a  |  and  to  gain  the  rewards  of  diligence  I  with- 
out suffering  its  fatigues.  | 

He,  therefore,  still  continued  to  walk  for  a  time,  | 
without  the  leasi  remission  of  his  ardour,  ]  except  thai 
he  was  sometimes  tempted  to  stop  I  by  the  music  of  the 
birds  |  which  the  heai  had  assembled  in  the  shadex ;  | 
and  sometimes  amused  himself  |  with  plucking  the 
flowers  !  thai  covered  the  banks  on  either  sidex,  I  or  the 
fruii  that  hung  upon  the  branches.  | 

At  lasi,  the'green  path  began  to  decline  from  its  first 
tendency,  I  and  to  wind  among  hills,  and  thick'ets,  J 
cooled  with  fountains,  and  murmuring  with  waterfalls.  | 
Here  Obidah  paused*  for  a  time/,  I  and  began  to  con- 
sider |  whether  it  were  longer  safe  to  forsake  the  known, 
and  common  trackv ;  I  but  remembering  thai  the  heat 
was  now  in  its  greatest  violence,  I  and  that  the  plain 
was  dusty,  and  uneven,  |  he  resolved  to  pursue  the  newx 
path  |  which  he  supposed  only  to  make  a  few  meanders,  | 
in  compliance  with  the  varieties  of  the  ground,  |  and  to 
end  at  last  in  the  common  road.  | 

Having  thus  calmed  fas  solicitude,  I  he  renewed  Ais 
pace*,  |  though  he  suspected  thai  he  was  noi  gaining 
ground.  I  This  uneasiness  of  his  mind,  |  inclined  him 
to  lay  hold  on  every  new  objeci,  I  and  give  way  to 
every  sensation  I  thai  mighi  soothe,  or  diveri  him.  |  He 
listened  to  every  eclvo ;  I  he  mounted  every  hill  for  a 
fresh  pros'peci ;  |  he  turned  aside  to  every  cascade* ;  | 
and  pleased  himself  |  with  tracing  the  course  of  a  gentle 
river  |  thai  rolled  among  the  trees,  1  and  watered  a 
large  region  I  with  innumerable  circumvolutions.  | 

In  these  amusements,  I  the  hours  passed  away  unac- 
counted ;  I  his  deviations  had  perplexed  his  menrory,  | 
and  he  knew  noi  towards  whai  poini  to  travel.  |  He 

*  Bii'nfes. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  313 

stood  pensive,  and  confused,  I  afraid  to  go  forward,  | 
lest  he  should  go  wrongs  |  jet  conscious  that  the  time 
of  loitering  was  now  pasi .  I  While  he  was  thus  tor- 
tured with  uncertainty,  I  the  sky  was  overspread  with 
clouds* ;  |  the  day  vanished  from  before'  Aim ;  I  and  a 
sudden  tempest  gathered  round  his  head .  | 

He  was  now  roused  by  Ais  danger,  I  to  a  quick,  and 
painful  remembrance  of  Ais  folly;  |  he  now  saw  how 
happiness  is  losi,  |  when  ease*  is  consulted  ;  |  he  lament- 
ed the  unmanly  impatience  |  thai  prompted  Aim  to  seek 
shelter  in  the  grovex ;  |  and  despised  the  petty  curiosity  | 
thai  led  Aim  on  from  trifle  to  trifle.  I  While  Ae  was 
thus  reflecting,  I  the  air  grew  blacker,  |  and  a  clap  of 
thunder  I  broke  Ais  meditation.  | 

He  now  resolved  to  do  whai  yet  remained  in  Ais 
power,  to  tread  bac&  the  ground  which  Ae  had  passed,  | 
and  try  to  find  some  issue  |  where  the  wood  might 
open  into  the  plain.  |  He  prostrated  Aimself  on  the 
ground,  I  and  recommended  Ais  life  to  the  Lord  of  Na- 
ture. |  He  rose  with  confidence,  and  tranquillity,  |  and 
pressed  on  with  resolution.  |  The  beasis  of  the  desert 
were  in  motion,  I  and  on  every  hand  I  were  heard  the 
mingled  howls  of  rage',  and  fear',  —  j  and  ravage,  and 
expiration.  I  All  the  horrors  of  darkness,  and  solitude, 
surrounded  Aim  :  |  the  winds  roared  in  the  woods,  |  and 
the  torrents  tumbled  from  the  hills,  j 

Thus  forlorn,  and  distressed,  i  he  wandered  through 
the  wild,  |  without  knowing  whither  Ae  was  goring,  |  or 
whether  Ae  was  every  moment  |  drawing  nearer  to 
safety,  or  to  destruction.  |  At  length,  not  fear,  |  but 
la'bour  ( began  to  overcome.  Aim ;  I  his  breath  grew 
short,  and  Ais  knees  trembled ;  ]  and  Ae  was  on  the 
point  of  lying  down  in  resignation  to  Ais  fatex,  |  when 
Ae  beheld,  through  the  brambles,  I  the  glimmer  of  a 
taper.  | 

He  advanced  towards  the  lighiv  |  and  finding  that  it 
proceeded  from  the  cottage  of  a  hermii,  I  he  called 
humbly  at  the  door,  |  and  obtained  admission,  i  The 
27 


314  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

old  man  set  before  Mm  |  such  provisions  as  he  had  col- 
lected for  Aimself ,  |  on  which  Qbidah  fed  with  eager- 
ness, and  gratitue/e.  | 

When  the  repast  was  over,  |  "  Tell  me,"  said  the 
iierm^,  |  "by  wha£  chance  thou  hast  been  brought 
hither?  j  I  have  been  now  twenty  years'  |  an  inhabit- 
ant of  the  wil'derness,  |  in  which  I  never  saw  a  man 
before."  |  Obidah  then  related  the  occurrences  of  Ais 
journey,  |  without  any  concealment,  or  palliation.  | 

"  Son,"  said  the  hermit,  I  "  let  the  errors,  and  follies,  j 
the  dangers,  and  escape  of  this  day,  I  sinA;  deep  into  thy 
heart.  I  Remember,  my  son,  |  that  human  life'  is  the 
journey  of  a  day.  |  We  rise  in  the  morning  of  youth,  | 
full  of  vigour,  and  full  of  expectation ;  |  we  set  forward 
with  spirit,  and  hope\,  I  with  gaiety,  and  with  diHgence,| 
and  travel  on  awhile  I  in  the  direct  road  of  piety,  |  to- 
wards the  mansions  of  rest,  j 

"  In  a  short  time,  we  remit  our  fenvour,  |  and  endea- 
vour to  find  some  mitigation  of  our  du^ty,  |  and  some 
more  easy  means  of  obtaining  the  same  end.  I  We  then 
relax  our  vigour,  I  and  resolve  no  longer  to  be  terrified 
with  crimes  at  a  distance ;  I  but  rely  upon  our  own 
constancy,  I  and  venture  to  approach  |  what  we  resolve 
never  to  touch.  I  We  thus  enter  the  bowers  of  ease,  | 
and  repose  in  the  shades  of  security.  | 
"  Here  the  heart  softens,  |  and  vigilance  subsides^ ;  |  we 
are  then  willing  to  inquire  I  whether  another  advance 
cannot  be  made,  I  and  whether  we  may  not,  at  least,  j 
turn  our  eyesx  upon  the  gardens  of  pleasure.  |  We 
approach  them  with  scruple,  and  hesitation ;  |  we  en'ter 
them,  I  but  enter  timorous,  and  trembling ;  i  and  always 
hope  to  pass  through  them  I  without  losing  the  road  of 
virtue,  .|  which,  for  a  while,  we  keep  in  our  sigh^,  |  and 
to  which  we  purpose  to  return.  |  Bu£  temptation  suc- 
ceedsv  temptavtion,  |  and  one  compliance,  prepares  us 
for  another ;  |  we  in  time  lose  the  happiness  of  inno- 
cence, |  and  solace  our  disquiet  with  sensual  gratifica- 
tions. | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  315 

"  By  degrees,  |  we  let  fall  the  remembrance  of  our 
original  intension,  I  and  quit  the  only  adequate  object 
of  rational  desire.  I  We  entangle  ourselves  in  busi- 
ness," |  immerge  ourselves  in  luxvury,  I  an d  rove  through 
the  labyrinths6  of  inconstancy ;  |  till  the  darkness  of 
old  age\  begins  to  invade^us,  |  and  disease,  and  anxiety 
obstruct  our  way.  I  We  then  look  back  upon  our  lives 
with  horror,  I  with  sorVow,  I  with  repentance ;  I  and 
wish,  |  but  too  often  vainly  wish,  |  that  we  had  not  for- 
saken the  ways  of  virtue.  I 

"  Happy  are  they,  my  son,  |  who  shall  learn  from 
thy  example,  I  not  to  despair*;0  I  but  shall  remember,  | 
tha<,  though  the  day  is  pas£,  I  and  their  strength  is 
wasted,  |  there  yet  remains  onev  effort  to  be  made :  j 
that  reformation  is  never  hopeless,  I  nor  sincere  endea- 
vours ever  unassisted;  |  that  the  wanderer  may  at 
length  return,  I  after  all  his  errors ;  I  and  thai  he  who 
implores  strength,  and  courage  from  above,  |  shall  find 
danger,  and  difficulty  give  way  before*  him.  I  Go  now, 
my  son,  to  thy  repose* ;  I  commit  thyself  to  the  care  of 
Omnipotence ;  I  and  when  the  morning  calls  again  to 
toil,  |  begin  anew  thy  journey,  and  thy  life."  | 


NIGHT  THOUGHTS. 
(YOUNG.) 

The  bell  strikes  onev.   I   We  take  no  note  of  time  | 

Rut  from  its  loss* :  |  to  give  it  then  a  tongue  | 

Is  wisex  in  man .   |    As  if  (  an  an<geld  spo&e,  | 

J  feel  the  solemn  soundv.   |    If  heard  aright,  | 

It  is  the  knell  of  my  departed  hoursv.  I 

Where  are'  they?   I   With  the  years  beyond  the  flood*. 

It  is  the  signal  that  demands  despatch^ :  I 

How  much  is  to  be  done* !   I    My  hopes,  and  fears 

Start  up  alarm'dx,  |  and  o'er  life's  narrow  verge 

•Bli'nds.    bLlb-b£r-r!n^.    c  D6-spdr'.    d  As  if  an  angel;  not 
uz-zif-fan-an'gel. 


316  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

LooA;  down'  —  |  on  what  ?   \    A  fathomless  abyss\,  j 

A  dreac?  etennity  !  |  how  surely  minev !  | 

And  can  eternity  belong  to  me',  ! 

Poor  pensioner  on  the  bounties  of  an  hour'  ?  1 

How  poorv,  |  how  riclv,  |  how  abject,  I  how  august;  | 
How  complicate,  |  how  wonvderful  is  man !  I 
How  passing  wonder  he  \  who  madev  him  such !  I 
Who  center's?  in  our  ma&e  such  strange  extremesv !  | 
From  diff'renZ  natures,  marvellously'1  mix'd,  | 
Connexion  exquisite  of  distant  worlds* !  i 
Distinguish'^  link  in  being's  endless  chain  !  I 
Midway  from  nothing  to  the  Devity !  | 
A  beam  etherial,  sullied,  and  absorp^  / 1 
Though  sullied,  and  dishonour'd,  I  still  divine> !  ! 
Dim  miniature5  of  greatness  absolute !  | 
An  heir  of  gloVy !  I  a  frail  child  of  dust  /  | 
Helpless  immortal !  I  insect  infinite !  I 
A  wornr !  I  a  God*  /  —  1 1  tremble  at  myself,  | 
And  in  myself  am  los^.  | 

At  home,  a  stranger,  | 

Thought  wanders  up,  and  down,c  |  surpris'd',  !  aghast, ' 
And  wond'ring  at  her  ownv.   |    How  reason  reels' !  | 
O  -what  a  miracle  to  man  is  man*,  | 
Triumphantly  distress'^  /  |  wha*  joy' !  I  \vhat  dread.  /  I 
Alternately  transported,  and  alarm'd*  /  | 
What  can  preserve^  my  life?  I  or  wha£  destroy*?  | 
An  an'gel's  arm  can't  snatch  me  from  the  gravex ;  | 
Legions  of  angels  can'i  confine*  me  there.  | 


THE    LAND   THAT   WE    LIVE   IN. 

(C.    W.    THOMSON.) 

The  land  tha£  we  live^  in  —  I  the  land  tha£  we  live'  in,  j 
O !  where  is  the  heart  does  not  think  it  more  fair7,  | 

Than  the  brightest  of  scenes  to  which  nature  has  given  . 
Her  clearest  of  sun  and  her  purest  of  airv  ?  i 

b  Mln'^-tir.    °  Up  and  down ;  not  up-pan-down. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  317 

Italia  may  boas£  of  her  evergreen  bowers,  | 

Her  sky  without  clouds  and  her  rose-scented  breezes, 
And  Persia  may  vaunZ  of  her  gardens  and  flowers, ) 

Rut  there  is  one  spot  which  is  better  than  thesev,  —  j 
'Tis  the  land  tha£  we  live^  in — I  the  lane?  that  we  live*  in,j 

O !  where  is  the  heart  does  no*  think  it  more  fair',  I 
Than  the  brightest  of  scenes  to  which  nature  has  given  I 

Her  clearest  of  sun  and  Aer  purest  of  air .  | 

Romantic  and  wile?  are  proud  Scotia's  mountains,  | 

And  fair  are  the  plains  of  imperial  France*  —  | 
And  Grana'da  may  tell  of  her  groves  and  her  fountains,! 

And  mingle  the  mirth  of  the  song  and  the  dancex  — 
The  climes  of  the  EasZ  may  exhibit  their  treasures,  | 

Their  palm-trees  may  bloom  and  their  waters  may 

fell'—  I 
And  music  may  wa&e  to  enliven  their  pleasures,  I 

Bu£  there  is  one  spot  which  is  dearer  than  all,  —  | 
'T  is  the  land  that  we  live4  in —  I  the  land  that  we  live'  in,  I 

O !  where  is  the  heart  does  not  think  it  more  fair',  I 
Than  the  brightest  of  scenes  to  which  nature  has  given 

Her  clearest  of  sun  and  her  purest  of  air.  ?  I 


WOLSEY'S  SOLILOQUY. 


(SHAKSPEARE.) 

Farewell, )  a  long  farewell,  |  to  all  my  greatness !  | 
This  is  the  state  of  man\ :  I  to-day  he  puts  forth 
The  tender  leaves  of  hope^ ;  I  to-morrow,  blossoms,  | 
And  bears  his  blushing  honours  thick  upon  Aim* :  | 
The  third  day,  comes  a  frosty  \  a  killing  fros^  ;  | 
And,  —  when  he  thinks,  |  good,  easy  man,  I  full  surely 
His  greatness  is  a  ripening,  —  |  nips  his  roop,  \ 
And  then  he  falls,  |  as  L  do.  I 

I  have  ventured,  | 

Like  little  wanton  boys  thai  swim  on  blad'ders,  j 
This*  many  summers,  |  in  a  sea  of  gloTy ;  | 

*  Thus  it  stands  in  Shakspeare. 
27* 


318  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Bui  far  beyond  my  depth  :  !  my  high-blown  pride  \ 
At  length  broke  unvder  me ;  I  and  now  has  left  me,  | 
Weary,  and  old  with  service,  |  to  the  mercy 
Of  a  rude  stream,  |  thai  must  for  ever  hide,  me.  I 

Vain  pomp,  and  glory  of  this  world,  1 1  hate*  ye ;  | 
I  feel  my  heart  new  O'pen'd :  |  O  how  wretched 
Is  thai  poor  man  |  thai  hangs  on  prinvces'  favours !  | 
There  is,*  betwixi  thai  smile  he  would  aspire  to,  | 
Thai  sweei  aspeci  of  princes,  I  and  their  ruin,  | 
More  pangs,  and  fears  |  than  wars,  or  wovmen  have* ; 
And  when  he  falls,  |  he  falls  like  Luvcifer,  | 
Never  to  hope  againv.  | 


(SHAKSPEARE.) 

Cromwell,  I  did  noi  think  to  shed  a  tear  I 

In  all  my  miseries ;  I  but  thou  hasi  forc'd  me,  ] 

Oui  of  thy  honesi  truth,  |  to  play  the  woman.  | 

Let's  dry  our  eyesx ;  I  and  thus  far  hear  me,CromvWell :  1 

And,  —  'when  I  am  forgotten,  as  I  shall  be,  | 

And  sleep  in  dull,  cold  marble,  |  where  no  mention 

Of  me  more  musi  be  heard  of, —  1 2say,  T  taughi  thee,  | 

Say,  Wol'sey, —  |  thai  once  trod  the  ways  of  glory,  | 

And  sounded  all  the  depths,  and  shoals  of  honour, —  | 

Found  thee  a  way,  |  out  of  his  wrec&,  I  to  rise^  in, ;  | 

A  sure,  and  safeN  one,  I  though  thy  master  miss'd  it.  | 

Mar&  bui  my  fall,  I  and  thai  thai  ru'in'd  me.  I 
Cromwell,  I  charge  thee.  fling  away  ambition ;  I 
By  thai  sin  fell  the  an'gels,  I  how  can  man  then,  | 
The  image  of  his  Maker,  I  hope  to  win*  by'i.  ? 
Love  thyself  last,:  I  cherish  those  hearts  thai  haie*  thee; 
Corruption  wins  noi  more  than  honesty.  | 
Still  in  thy  righi  hand  carry  gentle  peace,  | 
To  silence  envious  tongues.  I 

*  Thus  it  stands  in  Shakspeare. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  319 

Be  jus*x,  and  fear  not,  „•  j 

Let  all  the  ends,  thou  aim's*  at,  \  be  thy  country's,  | 
Thy  God's',  and  truths ;  I  then  if  thou  fall's*,  oh  Crom- 
well, | 

Thou  fall's*  a  blessed  martyr.   I    O  Cromwell, ! 
Had  I  serv'd  my  God  \  with  half  the  zeal 
I  serv'd  my  king,  I  he  would  no*  in  mine   age  I 
Have  lef*  me  naked  to  mine  enemies.  | 


REPLY  TO  WALPOLE. 

(PITT.*) 

The  atrocious  crime  of  being  a  young  man,  |  which 
the  honourable  gentleman  has,  !  with  such  spiri*  and 
decency,  charged  upon  me,  1 1  shall  neither  attemp*  to 
pallia*e,  nor  deny* ;  |  bu*  conten*  myself  with  wishing  | 
tha*  I  may  be  one  of  those  j  whose  follies  cease  with 
their  youtfr,  |  and  no*  of  tha*  number  J  who  are  igno- 
ran*  in  spi*e  of  experience.  I 

Whether  youth  can  be  imputed  to  avny  man  as  a 
reproach,  1 1  will  no*  assume  the  province  of  determin- 
ing: |  bu*  surely  age  may  become  justly  contemptible,  | 
if  the  opportunities  which  it  brings  have  passed  away 
without  improvement,  I  and  vice  appears  to  prevail  | 
when  the  passions  have  subsided,  j 

*  This  illustrious  father  of  English  Oratory,  having  expressed 
himself,  in  the  House  of  Commons,  with  his  accustomed  energy,  in 
opposition  to  one  of  the  measures  then  in  agitation,  his  speech  pro- 
duced an  answer  from  Mr.  WALPOLE,  who,  in  the  course  of  it,  said, 
"  Formidable  sounds,  and  furious  declamation,  confident  assertions, 
and  lofty  periods,  may  affect  the  young  and  inexperienced ;  and, 
perhaps,  the  honourable  gentleman  may  have  contracted  his  habits 
of  oratory  by  conversing  more  with  those  of  his  own  age,  than  with 
such  as  have  had  more  opportunities  of  acquiring  knowledge,  and 
more  successful  methods  of  communicating  their  sentiments."  And 
he  made  use  of  some  expressions,  such  as  vehemence  of  gesture, 
theatrical  emotion,  &c.,  applying  them  to  Mr.  PITT'S  manner  of 
speaking.  As  soon  as  Mr.  WALPOLE  sat  down,  Mr.  PITT  got  up 
and  replied  as  above. 


320  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

The  wretch  who,  after  having  seen  the  consequences 
of  a  thousand  errors,  |  continues  still  to  blunder,  |  and 
whose  age  has  only  added  obstinacy  to  stupidity,  1  is 
surely  the  object  of  either  abhorrence  or  contempts  i 
and  deserves  not  that  his  grey  head'  |  should  secure 
him  from  insult.  | 

Much  more  is  he  to  be  abhorred,  |  who,  as  he  has 
advanced  in  age  |  has  receded  from  virtue,  I  and  be- 
comes more  wicked  with  less  temptation  :  who  prosti- 


tutes himself  for  mone    which  he  cannot 


enoys 


spends  the  remains  of  Ais  life  I  in  the  ruin  of  fas  coun- 
try. | 

But  youth  is  not  my  only  crime.  I  I  have  been 
accused  of  acting  a  theatrical  part.  I  A  theatrical 
part  |  may  either  imply  some  peculiarities  of  gesture,  j 
or  a  dissimulation  of  my  real  sentiments,  |  and  an  adop- 
tion of  the  opinions  and  language  of  another  man.  | 

In  the  first  sense,  |  the  charge  is  too  trifling  to  be 
confuted,  |  and  deserves  only  to  be  mentioned  |  to  be 
despised.  |  I  am  at  liberty,  I  liAe  every  otlrer  man,  I  to 
use  my  own  language  ;  I  and  though  I  may,  perhaps, 
have  some  ambition  ;  |  yet  to  please  this  gentleman,  ]  I 
shall  not  lay  myself  under  any  restraint,  |  or  very 
solicitously  |  copy  his  diction,  or  his  mien\,  |  however 
matured  by  age,  I  or  modelled  by  experience.  | 

If  any  man  shall,  I  by  charging  me  with  theatrical 
behaviour,  I  imply  that  I  utter  any  sentiments  but  my 
own,  |  I  shall  treat  him  as  a  calunrniator  I  and  a  vil\- 
lain  :  I  nor  shall  any  protection  |  shelter  him  from  the 
treatment  which  he  deserves.  |  I  shall,  on  such  an 
occasion,  |  without  scruple,  i  trample  upon  all  those 
forms  |  with  which  wealth  and  dignity  entrench  them- 
selves :  |  nor  shall  any  thing  but  age  I  restrain  my  re- 
sen^menZ  :  I  age  which  always  brings  one  privilege  :  | 
thai  of  being  insolent  and  supercilious  j  without  punish- 
ment | 

Bu£  with  regard  to  those  whom  I  have  offended,  1  1 
am  of  opinion  |  that  if  I  Aad  acted  a  borrowed  part,  1  1 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  321 

should  have  avoided  their  censure.  I  The  hea*  that 
offended  them  |  is  the  ardour  of  conviction,  I  arid  tha* 
zeal  for  the  service  of  my  country  |  which  neither  hope 
nor  fear  1  shall  influence  me  to  suppress.  I 

I  will  no*  si*  unconcerned  |  while  my  liberty  is 
inva^ded,  |  nor  looA;  in  silence  upon  public  robbery.  |  I 
will  exert  my  endeavours,  a*  whatever  hazard,  |  to 
repel  the  aggressor,  I  and  drag  the  thief  to  justice,  | 
wha*  power  soever  may  protect  the  villany, )  and  who- 
ever may  partake  of  the  plunder.  I 


GENIUS. 

(AKENSIDE.) 

From  heaven  my  strains  begin ;  |  from  heaven  descends 

The  flame  of  genius  to  the  human  breas*,  | 

And  love,  and  beauty,  and  poetic  joy, 

And  inspiration.   |    Ere  the  radian*  sun 

Sprang  from  the  eas*,  |  or  'mid  the  vaul*  of  nigh*  | 

The  moon  suspended  her  serener  lamp  ;  | 

Ere  mountains,  woods,  or  streams  adorn'd  the  glo&e,  | 

Or  Wisdom  taugh*  the  sons  of  men  her  lore ;  | 

Then  lived  the  Almighty  ONE  ;  I  then,  deep  retired, 

In  his  unfathom'd  essence,  I  view'd  the  forms,  j 

The  forms  eternal  of  created  things ;  | 

The  radian*  sun, !  the  moon's  nocturnal  lamp,  | 

The  mountains,  woods,  and  streams,  |  the  rolling  glofee,  | 

And  Wisdom's  mien  celestial.  | 

From  the  firs* 

Of  days,  |  on  them  his  love  divine  he  fix'd,  | 
His  admiration :  |  till,  in  time  comple*e,  | 
Wha*  he  admired  and  loved,  I  his  vital  smile 
Unfolded  into  being.   |    Hence  the  breath 
Of  life  informing  each  organic  frame,  | 
Hence  the  green  earth,  and  wild  resounding  waves ;  1 
Hence  ligh*  and  shade  alternate ;  |  warmth  and  cold, ) 
And  clear  autumnal  skies,  and  vernal  showers,  j 
And  all  the  fair  variety  of  things.  1 


322  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

Bu£  not  alike  to  every  mortal  eye  | 

Is  this  greaZ  scene  unveil'd.   |    For,  since  the  claims 

Of  social  life,  |  to  different  labours  urge 

The  active  powers  of  man,  1  with  wise  intend  | 

The  hand  of  Nature  on  peculiar  minds  | 

Imprints  a  different  bias,  I  and  to  each 

Decrees  its  province  in  the  common  toil.  | 

To  some  she  taught  the  fabric  of  the  sphere,  | 

The  changeful  moon,  I  the  circuit  of  the  stars, 

The  golden  zones  of  heaven :  I  to  some  she  gave 

To  weigh  the  moment  of  eternal  things,  | 

Of  time,  and  space,  and  Fate's  unbroken  chain,  | 

And  will's  quick  impulse  ;  |  others  by  the  hand  ! 

She  led  o'er  vales  and  mountains,  I  to  explore 

Wha£  healing  virtue  I  swells  the  tender  veins 

Of  herbs  and  flowers ;  |  or  whaZ  the  beams  of  morn 

Draw  forth,  |  distilling  from  the  clifted  rind 

In  balmy  tears.  | 

Rut  some  to  higher  hopes 
Were  destin'd  ;  |  some  within  a  finer  mould 
She  wrought,  |  and  temper'd  with  a  purer  flame :  I 
To  these  the  Sire  Omnipotent  I  unfolds 
The  world's  harmonious  volume,  I  there  to  read 
The  transcript  of  /amself.   |   On  every  part  I 
They  trace  the  bright  impressions  of  his  hand ;  | 
In  earth  or  air,  !  the  meadow's  purple  stores,  | 
The  moon's  mild  radiance,  I  or  the  virgin's  form,  ( 
Blooming  with  rosy  smiles,  1  they  see  pourtray'd 
Tha*  uncreated  beauty  i  which  delights 
The  Mind  Supreme.   I    They  also  feel  her  charms, 
Enamour'd ;  i  they  partake  the  eternal  joy.  | 


GREATNESS. 

(AKENSIDE.) 

Say,  why  was  man  so  eminently  raised  | 
Amid  the  vasZ  creation  ?  I  why  ordain'd 
Thro'  life  and  death  |  to  dart  Ais  piercing  eye,  I 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  323 

With  though*  beyond  the  limi*  of  Ms  frame,  | 
Bu*  tha*  the  Omnipotent  migh*  send  Aim  forth,  | 
In  sigh*  of  mortal  and  immortal  powers,  I 
As  on  a  boundless  theatre,  |  to  run 
The  grea*  career  of  justice :  |  to  exal* 
His  generous  aim  to  all  diviner  deeds ;  | 
To  chase  each  partial  purpose  from  his  breas* ;  I 
And  thro'  the  mis*s  of  passion  ana7  of  sense,  | 
And  thro'  the  tossing  tide  of  chance  and  pain,  | 
To  hold  his  course  unfaltering,  I  while  the  voice 
Of  Truth  ana"  Virtue,  |  up  the  steep  ascend 
Of  Nature,  I  calls  Aim  to  h is  high  reward,  | 
The  applauding  smile  of  Heaven?  | 

Else  wherefore  burns 
In  mortal  bosom  this  unquenched  hope,  I 
Tha*  breathes  from  day  to  day  sublimer  things,  | 
And  mocks  possession  ?  I  Wherefore  darts  the  mine7,  | 
With  such  resistless  ardour  I  to  embrace 
Majestic  forms,  |  impatient  to  be  free ;  j 
Spurning  the  gross  control  of  wilful  migh* ;  | 
Proud  of  the  strong  contention  of  Aer  toils ;  | 
Proud  to  be  daring  ?  j  Who  bu*  rather  turns 
To  Heaven's  broao1  fire  Ais  unconstrained  view,  I 
Than  to  the  glimmering  of  a  waxen  flame  ?  I 
Who  tha*,  from  Alpine  heights,  |  Ais  labouring  eye 
Shoots  round  the  wide  horizon,  I  to  survey 
Nil  us  or  Ganges  rolling  Ais  brigh*  wave  I 
Thro'  mountains,  plains,|  thro'  empires black  with  shade,! 
And  continents  of  sand,  I  will  turn  Ais  gaze  | 
To  mark  the  windings  of  a  scanty  rill  I 
Tha*  murmurs  a*  Ais  fee*  ?  \ 

The  high-born  soul  | 

Disdains  to  res*  Aer  heaven  aspiring  wing 
Beneath  its  native  quarry.  Jf  Tired  of  earth 
And  this  diurnal  scene,  I  she  springs  alof* 
Thro'  fields  of  air ;  I  pursues  the  flying  storm ;  | 
Rides  on  the  volley'd  lightning  thro'  the  heavens ;  | 
Or,  yoked  with  whirlwinds  and  the  northern  bias*,  | 


324  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Sweeps  the  long  tract  of  day.   |    Then  high  she  soars 

The  blue  profound,  |  and  hovering  round  the  sun,  | 

Beholds  him  pouring  the  redundant  stream 

Of  lighz ;  |  beholds  his  unrelenting  sway  | 

Bend  the  reluctant  planets  to  absolve 

The  fated  rounds  of  time.   |    Thence  far  effused  | 

She  darts  ^er  swiftness  up  the  long  career 

Of  devious  comets :  |  thro'  its  burning  signs 

Exulting  I  measures  the  perennial  wheel 

Of  Nature,  |  and  looks  bacA;  on  all  the  stars,  | 

Whose  blended  lightf,    as  with  a  milky  zone,  | 

Invests  the  orient.   I 

Now  amazed  she  views 

The  empyreal  waste,  I  where  happy  spirits  hold,  | 
Beyond  this  concave  heaven,  I  their  calm  abode ;  I 
And  fields  of  radiance,  |  whose  unfading  light  \ 
Has  travelled  the  profound  six  thousand  years,  | 
Nor  yet  arrives  in  sight  of  mortal  things.  | 
E'en  on  the  barriers  of  the  world  untired  | 
She  meditates  the  eternal  depth  below,  | 
Till,  half  recoiling,  |  down  the  headlong  steep 
She  plunges ;  I  soon  o'erwhelm'd  and  swallowed  up  \ 
In  that  immense  of  being.   | 

There  her  hopes 

Res£  at  the  fatal  goal :  |  for,  from  the  birth 
Of  mortal  man,  I  the  sovereign  Maker  said,  | 
Tha£  not  in  humble  nor  in  brief  delight,  I 
No£  in  the  fading  echoes  of  renown,  | 
Power's  purple  robes,  I  nor  Pleasure's  flowery  lap,  \ 
The  soul  should  find  enjoyment ;  I  but,  from  these 
Turning  disdainful  to  an  equal  good,  I 
Thro'  all  the  ascend  of  things  enlarge  her  view,  | 
Till  every  bound  at  length  should  disappear,  | 
And  infinite  perfection  clo^e  the  scene.  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  325 


PAPER. 

[A  CONVERSATIONAL  PLEASANTRY.] 
(FRANKLIN.) 

Some  wi£  of  old  —  |  such  wits  of  old  there  were,  1 
Whose  hints  show'd  meaning,  I  whose  allusions  care,  | 
By  one  brave  strode,  |  to  mark  all  human  kind,  \ 
Call'd  clear  blank  paper  ev'ry  infant  mine? ;  | 
Where,  still,  as  opening  sense  her  dictates  wrote,  I 
Fair  Virtue  put  a  seal,  |  or  Vice,  a  blot.  | 
The  thought  was  happy,  pertinent,  and  true ;  | 
Methinks  a  genius  might  the  plan  pursue.  I 

I  (can  you  pardon  my  presumption  ?),  |  I, 
No  wk,  no  genius,  |  yet,  for  once,  will  try.  | 
Various  the  paper,  various  wan£s  produce ;  | 
The  wants  of  fashion  I  elegance,  I  and  use.  I 
Men  are  as  various ;  i  and  if  right  I  scan,  I 
Each  sort  of  paper  i  represents  some  man.  | 

Pray  note  the  %>,  1  half  powder  and  half  lace ;  | 
Nice,  as  a  band-box  were  his  dwelling  place;  | 
He 's  the  giU-paper,  |  which  apart  you  store,  I 
And  lock  from  vulgar  hands  in  the  scrutoire.a 

Mechanics,  servants,  farmers,  and  so  forth,  | 
Are  copy-paper,  I  of  inferior  worth  ;  | 
Less  priz'd,  I  more  useful,  |  for  your  desk  decreed  ;  \ 
Free  to  all  pens,  |  and  prompt  at  ev'ry  need.  I 

The  wretch,  whom  avarice  bids  to  pinch  and  spare, 
Starve,  chea£,  and  pilfer,  to  enrich  an  heir,  | 
Is  coarse  brown  paper,  I  such  as  pedlars  choose  | 
To  wrap  up  wares,  |  which  better  men  will  use.  I 

Take  next  the  miser's  contrast,  \  who  destroys  I 
Health,  fame,  and  fortune,  in  a  round  of  joys ;  | 

*  Scrutoire,  a  case  of  drawers  for  writings. 
28 


326  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Will  any  paper  match  Aim  ?  I  Yes,  throughout ;  | 
He 's  a  true  sinking  paper,  |  pas*  all  doub*.  ] 

The  retail  politician's  anxious  thought  | 

Deems  this  side  always  riglu,  |  and  that  stark  nought ;  > 

He  foams  with  censure ;  |  with  applause  he  raves ;  | 

A  dupe  to  rumours,  |  and  a  tool  of  knaves ;  | 

He  '11  wan*  no  type  his  weakness  to  proclaim,  j 

While  such  a  thing  as  foolscap  has  a  name.  I 

The  hasty  gentleman,  whose  blood  runs  high,  | 
Who  picks  a  quarrel  if  you  step  awry,  | 
Who  can'*  a  jes£,  a  hin£,  or  loo&,  endure ;  I 
Wha*  is  he  ?  |  Wha*  ?  \  Touch-paper  to  be  sure.  | 

What  are  our  poets,  |  take  them  as  they  fall,  { 
Good,  |  bad,  I  rich,  i  poor,  |  much  read,  I  not  read  at  all  ?  | 
Them  and  their  works  in  the  same  class  you  '11  find :  | 
They  are  the  mere  waste-paper  of  mankind.  | 

Observe  the  maiden,  I  innocently  sweeZ ;  I 
She  's  fair  white  paper,  I  an  unsullied  sheeZ;  | 
On  which  the  happy  man  whom  fate  ordains,  | 
May  write  his  name,  I  and  take  Aer  for  Ais  pains.  J 

One  instance  more,  I  and  only  one,  I  '11  bring :  | 
'T  is  the  greaZ  man  who  scorns  a  little  thing ;  | 
Whose  thoughts,  whose  deeds,  whose  maxims  are  Ais 

own,  | 

Form'd  on  the  feelings  of  Ais  heart  alone : 
True,  genuine,  royal-paper  is  his  breast;  | 
Of  all  the  kinds  most  precious,  purest,  I  best.  | 

MOSES    SMITING    THE    ROCK. 
(W.    A.    VAN    VRANKEN.) 

On  the  parch'd  plains  |  the  tribes  of  Israel  lay,  | 
Fatigued  and  sad,  |  to  raging  thirst  a  prey :  | 
In  that  lone  region,  I  in  that  deser/  drear,  | 
No  streamlet's  murmur  stole  upon  the  ear ;  I 
No  broo/c  pellucid  glanc'd  its  light  along,  j 
To  cheer  the  vision  of  that  fainting  throng.  | 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  327 

Nought  met  the  eye  |  save  Horeb's  roc&  thai  frown'd,  | 
In  gloomy  grandeur,  on  the  scene  around,  j 

At  its  broad  base,  I  behold  the  patriarch  stand,  | 

And  with  Ais  roc?,  a.t  the  Divine  command,  ] 

Smite  its  dar&  fronZ ;  |  o'erawed  by  Power  Supreme,  1 

Its  riven  breast  expell'd  a  copious  stream ;  | 

The  new-born  waters  pour'd  their  torrents  wide,  I 

And  foam'd,  and  thunder'd,  down  its  craggy  side.  | 

At  the  glad  sound  each  Hebrew  mother  there  ] 

Her  infant  clasp'd,  |  and  look'd  to  Heaven  a  prayer :  | 

Joy  thrill'd  all  hearts ;  J  for  lo !  the  sunbeams  play,  | 

In  radiant  glory,  on  the  flashing  spray  | 

ThaZ  dash'd  its  crystals  o'er  the  rocky  pile,  | 

A  beauteous  emblem  of  Jehovah's  smile.  | 


TIME. 
(W.    A.    VAN   VRANKEN.) 

My  silent  and  mysterious  flight  I 
Reveals  each  morn  the  glorious  light  I 

Tha£  gilds  the  passing  year ;  | 
I  never  stop  to  lest  my  wing :  | 
Triumphant  on  the  blasZ  I  spring  —  | 

My  plumage,  dar&  and  sere.  I 

Onward  I  speed  my  flight  sublime ;  1 
Before  me  withers  manhood's  prime,  I 

While  pillar,  dome,  and  tower,  | 
And  massy  piles,  and  temples  grand,  I 
Lie  crush'd  beneath  my  iron  hand  —  | 

Resistless  is  my  power.  | 

Remorseless  boaster,  hold  /  |  thy  wings  | 
May  sweep  aside  earth's  mightiest  things,  | 

Mere  creatures  of  an  hour :  I 
Thou  cansZ  not  reach  the  Heavenly  bloom,  | 
Celestial  tints,  and  rich  perfume,  I 

Of  virtue's  lovely  flower.  I 


328  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION 


TO    THE    AMERICAN    FLAG. 

(DRAKE  AND  HALLECK.) 

When  freedom  from  her  mountain  heigh*  | 

Unfurl'd  Aer  standard  to  the  air,  | 
She  tore  the  azure  ro6e  of  nigh*,  | 

And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there !  | 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes  | 
The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies,  | 
And  striped  its  pure  celestial  white,  | 
With  streakings  from  the  morning  ligh*  /  | 
Then,  from  h is   mansion  in  the  sun,  | 
She  called  her  eagle-bearer  down,  | 
And  gave  into  his  mighty  hand  | 
The  symbol  of  her  chosen  land  /  | 

Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud  / 1 

Who  rear's*  aloft  thy  regal  form,  | 
To  hear  the  tempes*  trumping  loud,  | 

And  see  the  lightning  lances  driven,  | 
When  strides  the  warrior  of  the  storm,  | 

And  rolls  the  thunder-drum  of  heaven !  I 
Child  of  the  sun  !  |to  thee  't  is  given  | 

To  guard  the  banner  of  the  free  —  ' 
To  hover  in  the  sulphur  smoke,  | 
To  ward  away  the  battle-strode,  | 
And  bid  its  blendings  shine  afar,  I 
Li&e  rainbows  on  the  cloud  of  war,  I 

The  harbinger  of  victory !  I 

Flag  of  the  brave !  I  thy  folds  shall  fly,  J 
The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph  high !  | 
When  speaks  the  signal-trumpets  tone,  I 
And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on ;  | 
Ere  ye*  the  life-blood,  warm  and  we*,  | 
Has  dimm'd  the  glistening  bayone*  —  I 
Each  soldier's  eye  shall  brightly  turn,  | 
To  where  thy  meteor  glories  burn,  I 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  329 

And  as  Ms  springing  steps  advance,  I 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glance  1 1 
And  when  the  cannon's  mouthings  loud,  | 
Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle-shroud,  | 
And  gory  sabres  rise  and  fall,  | 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight  pall !  1 
There  shall  thy  victor  glances  glow,  | 

And  cowering  foes  shall  fall  beneath  | 
Each  gallant  arm  tha£  strikes  below  | 

That  lovely  messenger  of  death !  | 

Flag-  of  the  seas  !|  on  ocean's  wave,  | 
Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave.  | 
When  death,  careering  on  the  gale,  I 
Sweeps  darkly  round  the  swelling  sail,  I 
And  frighted  waves  rush  wildly  back  | 
Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack ;  | 
The  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea  | 
Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee,  1 
And  smile  to  see  thy  splendours  fly,  I 
In  triumph  o'er  the  closing  eye.  ] 

Flag  of  the  free  heart's  only  home,  I 

By  angel  hands  to  valour  given !  I 
Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome  | 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven ;  | 
For  ever  float  that  standard  sheet !  | 

Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us,  | 
With  freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet,  | 

And  freedom's  banner  streaming  o'er  us !  | 


MOTIVES  TO  THE  PRACTICE  OF  GENTLENESS. 

(BLAIR.) 

To  promote  the  virtue  of  gentleness,  |  we  ough£  to 
view  our  character  with  an  impartial  eye;  I  and  to 
learn,  from  our  own  failings,  |  to  give  thai  indulgence 
which  in  our  turn  we  claim.  |  It  is  pride  which  fills 
the  world  with  so  much  harshness  and  severity.  |  In 
28* 


330  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

the  fulness  of  self-estimation,  I  we  forged  wha£  we  are.  \ 
We  claim  attentions  to  which  we  are  not  entitled. ; 
We  are  rigorous  to  offences,  |  as  if  we  had  never  offend- 
ed; |  unfeeling  to  distress,  |  as  if  we  knew  not  what  it 
was  to  suffer.  |  From  those  airy  regions  of  pride  and 
folly,  |  let  us  descend  to  our  proper  level.  I  Let  us 
survey  the  natural  equality  |  on  which  Providence  has 
placed  man  with  man,  |  and  reflect  on  the  infirmities 
common  to  all.  |  If  the  reflection  on  natural  equality 
and  mutual  offences,  I  be  insufficient  to  prompt  hu- 
manity, |  let  us  at  leas*  remember  wha£  we  are  in  the 
sigh£  of  our  Creator.  I  Have  we  none  of  thai  forbear- 
ance to  give  one  another,  |  which  we  all  so  earnestly 
entreat  from  heaven  ?  I  Can  we  look  for  clemency  or 
gentleness  from  our  Judge,  |  when  we  are  so  backward 
to  show  it  to  our  own  brethren  ?  | 

Let  us  also  accustom  ourselt-es  |  to  reflect  on  the 
small  moment  of  those  things  I  which  are  the  usual  in- 
centives to  violence  and  contention.  |  In  the  ruffled 
and  angry  hour,  |  we  view  every  appearance  through 
a  false  medium.  I  The  most  inconsiderable  poin*  of 
interest  or  honour,  j  swells  into  a  momentous  object ;  | 
and  the  slightest  attac/D  seems  to  threaten  immediate 
ruin.  |  Bu£  after  passion  or  pride  has  subsided,  |  we 
look  around  in  vain  for  the  mighty  mischiefs  we  dread- 
ed. |  The  fabric  which  our  disturbed  imagination  had 
reared,  I  totally  disappears.  I  BuZ  though  the  cause  of 
contention  has  dwindled  away,  I  its  consequences  re- 
main, j  We  have  alienated  a  friend ;  |  we  have  em- 
bittered an  enemy ;  |  we  have  sown  the  seeds  of  future 
suspicion,  malevolence,  or  disgust.  —  |  Let  us  suspend 
our  violence  for  a  moment,  I  when  causes  of  discord 
occur.  |  Let  us  anticipate  that  period  of  coolness,  ! 
which,  of  itself,  will  soon  'arrive.  |  Let  us  reflect  how 
little  we  have  any  prospect  of  gaining  by  fierce  con- 
tention; I  lout  how  mucli  of  the  true  happiness  of  life  j 
we  are  certain  of  throwing  away.  |  Easily,  and  from 
the  smallest  chinA;,  |  the  bitter  waters  of  strife  are  let 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  331 

fortn ;  |  but  their  course  cannot  be  foreseen ;  |  and  he 
seldom  fails  of  suffering  most  from  their  poisonous 
effect,  I  who  first  allows  them  to  flow.  I 


ON    THE    IMPORTANCE     OF     ORDER     IN     THE    DISTRIBUTION 
OF    OUR    TIME. 

(BLAIR.) 

Time  we  ought  to  consider  |  as  a  sacred  trust  com- 
mitted to  us  by  God ;  \  of  which  we  are  now  the  de- 
positaries, I  and  are  to  render  an  account  at  the  las£.  | 
ThaZ  portion  of  it  which  he  has  allotted  to  us,  |  is  in- 
tended partly  for  the  concerns  of  this  world,  |  partly 
for  those  of  the  nex£.  |  Let  each  of  these  occupy,  |  in 
the  distribution  of  our  time,  |  that  space  which  pro- 
perly belongs  to  it.  1  Le£  not  the  hours  of  hospitality 
and  pleasure,  I  interfere  with  the  discharge  of  our  neces- 
sary affairs ;  I  and  let  not  what  we  call  necessary  affairs,  | 
encroach  upon  the  time  which  is  due  to  devotion.  |  To 
every  thing  there  is  a  season,  |  and  a  time  for  every 
purpose  under  heaven.  I  If  we  delay  till  to-morrow, 
whai  ough*  to  be  done  to-day,  |  we  overcharge  the 
morrow  with  a  burden  which  belongs  not  to  it.  \  We 
load  the  wheels  of  time,  I  and  prevent  them  from  carry- 
ing us  along  smoothly.  I  He  who  every  morning  plans 
the  transactions  of  the  day,  I  and  follows  out  that  plan,  I 
carries  on  a  thread  |  which  will  guide  Aim  through  the 
labyrinth  of  the  most  busy  life.  |  The  orderly  arrange- 
ment of  his  time  is  Me  a  ray  of  light,  |  which  darts 
itself  through  all  his  affairs.  I  BuZ,  where  no  plan  is 
laid,  |  where  the  disposal  of  time  I  is  surrendered  mere- 
ly to  the  chance  of  incidents,  I  all  things  lie  huddled 
together  in  one  chaos,  |  which  admits  neither  of  distri- 
bution nor  review.  I 

The  first  requisite  for  introducing  order  into  the 
management  of  time,  I  is,  to  be  impressed  with  a  just 
sense  of  its  value.  I  Let  us  consider  well  how  much 
depends  upon  it,  and  how  fast  it  flies  away.  |  The 


332  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

bulk  of  men  are  in  nothing  more  capricious  and  incon- 
sistent, I  than  in  their  appreciation  of  time.  |  When 
they  think  of  it  as  the  measure  of  their  continuance 
on  earth,  I  they  highly  prize  it,  I  and  with  the  greatest 
anxiety  seek  to  lengthen  it  out.  \  Rut  when  they  view 
it  in  separate  parcels,  |  they  appear  to  hold  it  in  con- 
tempt, I  and  squander  it  with  inconsiderate  profusion,  j 
While  they  complain  that  life  is  short,  I  they  are  often 
wishing  its  different  periods  at  an  end.  \  Covetous  of 
every  other  possession,  |  of  time  only  they  are  prodi- 
gal. |  They  allow  every  idle  man  to  be  master  of  this 
property,  I  and  make  every  frivolous  occupation  wel- 
come |  that  can  help  them  to  consume  it.  |  Among 
those  who  are  so  careless  of  time,  |  it  is  not  to  be 
expected  |  that  order  should  be  observed  in  its  distribu- 
tion. I  Bu£,  by  this  fatal  neglect,  I  how  many  materi- 
als of  severe  and  lasting  regret  I  are  they  laying  up  in 
store  for  themselves !  I  The  time  which  they  suffer  to 
pass  away  in  the  mids£  of  confusion,  |  bitter  repentance 
seeks  afterwards  in  vain  to  recall.  I  What  was  omit- 
ted to  be  done  at  its  proper  moment,  |  arises  to  be  the 
torment  of  some  future  season.  |  Manhood  is  dis- 
graced by  the  consequences  of  neglected  youth.  I  Old 
..  age,  |  oppressed  by  cares  that  belonged  to  a  former 
period,  |  labours  under  a  burden  not  its  own.  I  At  the 
close  of  life,  I  the  dying  man  beholds  with  anguish  that 
Ais  days  are  finishing,  I  when  his  preparation  for 
eternity  is  hardly  commenced.  I  Such  are  the  effects 
of  a  disorderly  waste  of  time,  I  through  not  attending 
to  its  value.  I  Every  thing  in  the  life  of  such  persons 
is  misplaced.  I  Nothing  is  performed  aright,  |  from  not 
being  performed  in  due  season.  I 

~But  he  who  is  orderly  in  the  distribution  of  his  time,  | 
takes  the  proper  method  of  escaping  those  manifold 
evils.  |  He  is  justly  said  to  redeem  the  time.  |  By 
proper  management,  he  prolongs  it.  I  He  lives  much 
in  little  space ;  I  more  in  a  few  years,  than  others  do  in 
many.  I  He  can  live  to  God  and  Ais  own  soul,  I  and 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  333 

at  the  same  time,  |  attend  to  all  the  lawful  interests  of 
the  present  world.  I  He  looks  back  on  the  pasi,  |  and 
provides  for  the  future.  |  He  catches  and  arresis  the 
hours  as  they  fly.  |  They  are  marked  down  for  useful 
purposes,  |  and  their  memory  remains.  I  Whereas  those 
hours  fieei  by  the  man  of  confusion  like  a  shadow.  | 
His  days  and  years  are  either  blanks,  |  of  which  he 
has  no  remembrance,  |  or  they  are  filled  up  with  so 
confused  and  irregular  a  succession  of  unfinished  trans- 
actions, |  thai  though  he  remembers  he  has  been  busy,  | 
yet  he  can  give  no  account  of  the  business  which  has 
employed  him.  \ 


INDUSTRY     NECESSARY     TO     THE     ATTAINMENT     OP 
ELOQUENCE. 

(WARE.) 

The  history  of  the  world  is  full  of  testimony  |  to 
prove  how  much  depends  upon  industry ;  I  not  an  emi- 
nent orator  has  lived  bui  is  an  example  of  it.  \  Yei, 
in  contradiction  to  all  this,  I  the  almost  universal  feel- 
ing appears  to  be,  1  thai  industry  can  effect  nothing,  | 
thai  eminence  is  the  resuli  of  accident,  I  and  thai  every 
one  musi  be  conteni !  to  remain  jusi  whai  he  may  hap- 
pen to  be.  |  Thus  multitudes,  who  come  forward  as 
eachers  and  guides,  I  suffer  themselves  to  be  satisfied 
,vith  the  mosi  indifferent  attainments,  |  and  a  miserable 
mediocrity,  |  withoui  so  much  as  inquiring  how  they 
may  rise  higher,  I  much  less  making  any  attempt  to 
rise.  | 

For  any  other  art  they  would  have  served  an  ap- 
prenticeship, |  and  would  be  ashamed  to  practise  it  in 
public  before  they  had  learned  it.  I  If  any  one  would 
sing,  |  he  attends  a  master,  |  and  is  drilled  in  the  very 
elementary  principles  ;  I  and  only  after  the  mosi  labori- 
ous process,  I  dares  to  exercise  his  voice  in  public.  | 
This  he  does,  |  though  he  has  scarce  any  thing  to  learn 
but  the  mechanical  execution  !  of  whai  lies  in  sensible 


334  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

forms  before  the  eye.  |  Bui  the  extempore  speaker,  | 
who  is  to  invent  as  well  as  to  utter,  I  to  carry  on  an 
operation  of  the  mind  |  as  well  as  to  produce  sound,  | 
enters  upon  the  wor/c  without  preparatory  discipline,  | 
and  then  wonders  thai  he  fails !  | 

If  he  were  learning  to  play  on  the  flute  for  public 
exhibition,  I  whai  hours  and  days  would  he  spend  in 
giving  facility  to  his  fingers,  1  and  attaining  the  power 
of  the  sweetest  and  most  expressive  execution  !  \  If  he 
were  devoting  himself  to  the  organ,  I  whai  months  and 
years  would  he  labour,  I  thai  he  mighi  know  its  com- 
pass, 1  and  be  master  of  its  keys,  I  and  be  able  to  draw 
out,  at  will,  |  all  its  various  combinations  of  harmoni- 
ous sound,  |  and  its  full  richness  and  delicacy  of  expres- 
sion !  |  And  yet  he  will  fancy  thai  the  grandest,  |  the 
most  various  and  most  expressive  of  all  instruments,  ] 
which  the  infinite  Creator  has  fashioned  |  by  the  union 
of  an  intellectual  soul  with  the  powers  of  speech,  |  may 
be  played  upon  without  study  or  practice ;  I  he  comes 
to  it  a  mere  uninstructed  tyro,  I  and  thinks  to  manage 
all  its  stops,  |  and  command  the  whole  compass  of  its 
varied  and  comprehensive  power !  I  He  finds  Aimself 
a  bungler  in  the  attempt,  I  is  mortified  at  Ms  failure,  | 
and  settles  it  in  his  mind  for  ever,  thai  the  attempi  is 
vain.  | 

Success  in  every  ari,  I  whatever  may  be  the  natural 
taleni,  I  is  always  the  reward  of  industry  and  pains.  | 
Bui  the  instances  are  many,  |  of  men  of  the  finesi 
natural  genius,  |  whose  beginning  has  promised  much,  | 
but  who  have  degenerated  wretchedly  as  they  ad- 
vanced, |  because  they  trusted  to  their  gifis,  |  and  made 
no  efforts  to  improve.  |  Thai  there  have  never  been 
other  men  I  of  equal  endowments  with  Demosthenes 
and  Cicero,  |  none  would  venture  to  suppose  ;  I  bui  who 
have  so  devoted  themselves  to  their  ari,  |  or  become 
equal  in  excellence?  I  If  those  greai  men  had  been 
conteni,  like  others,  |  to  continue  as  they  began,  i  and 
had  never  made  their  persevering  efforts  for  improve- 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  335 

rnenZ,  |  whai  would  their  countries  have  benefited  from 
their  genius,  I  or  the  world  have  known  of  their  fame  ?  I 
They  would  have  been  lost  in  the  undistinguished 
crowd  j  thai  sun/t  to  oblivion  around  them.  I 


THE    DESTRUCTION    OF    SENACHERIB. 

(BYRON.) 

The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold,  | 
And  his  cohorts  were  gleaming  in  purple  and  gold  /  | 
And  the  sheen  of  their  spears  was  like  stars  on  the  sea,  j 
When  the  blue  wTave  rolls  nightly  on  deep  Galilee.  | 

Like  the  leaves  of  the  fores*  when  summer  is  green,  j 
Thai  hosi  with  their  banners  ai  sunsei  were  seen :  | 
Li&e  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  autumn  hath  blown,  | 
Thai  host  on  the  morrow  i  lay  wither'd  and  strown.  | 

For  the  angel  of  death  !  spread  his  wings  on  the  blasi,  j 
And  breath'd  in  the  face  of  the  foe  as  he  pass'd ;  j 
And  the  eyes  of  the  sleepers  wax'd  deadly  and  chill,  | 
And  their  hearts  but  once  heav'd,  |  and  for  ever  were 
still!  | 

And  there  lay  the  steed  with  his  nostrils  all  wide,  I 
Bui  through  them  there  roll'd  not  the  breath  of  his 

pride ;  | 

And  the  foam  of  his  gasping  lay  white  on  the  turf,  | 
And  cold  as  the  spray  on  the  roc/c-beating  surf,  i 

And  there  lay  the  rider,  |  distorted  and  pale,  j 
With  the  dew  on  his  brow  |  and  the  rusi  on  his  mail ;  | 
And  the  tents  were  all  sileni,  I  the  banners  alone,  | 
The  lances  unlifted,  |  the  trumpei  unblown,  j 

And  the  widows  of  Ashur  |  are  loud  in  their  wail,  i 
And  the  idols  are  broke  in  the  temple  of  Baal ;  I 
And  the  might  of  the  Gentile,  i  unsmote  by  the  sword,  j 
Hath  melted  like  snow  I  in  the  glance  of  the  Lord  /  | 


336  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

LOCHINVAR.* 

(SCOTT.) 

O,  young  Lochinvar    is  come  out  of  the  west,  j 
Through  all  the  wide  border    his  steed  was  the  best ;  I 
And  save  his  good  broadsword,  I  he  weapon  had  none,  i 
He  rode  all  unarm'd,  I  and  he  rode  all  alone.  I 
So  faithful  in  love,  |  and  so  dauntless  in  war,  | 
There  never  was  knight    like  the  young  Lochinvar.  | 

He  staid  not  for  brake,  I  and  he  stopped  not  for  stone,  | 
He  swam  the  Eske  river  |  where  ford  there  was  none  ;  j 
But,  ere  he  alighted  at  Netherby  gate,  | 
The  bride  had  consented,  |  the  gal'lant  came  late :  j 
For  a  laggard  in  love,  I  and  a  dastard  in  war,  | 
Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen   of  brave  Lochinvar.  I 

So,  boldly  he  entered  the  Netherby  hall,  | 

Among  bridesmen,   and  kinsmen,    and  brothers,  and 

all:  | 

Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  I  his  hand  on  his  sword,  I 
(For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a  word,)  | 
"  O  come  ye  in  peace  here,  |  or  come  ye  in  war,  | 
Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  [  young  lord  Lochinvar  ?"  | 

'*  I  long  woo'd  your  daughter,  1  my  suit  you  denied ;  | 
Love  swells  like  the  Solway,  I  but  ebbs  like  its  tide ;  j  | 
And  now  am  I  come,  I  with  this  lost  love  of  mine,  I 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  I  drink  one  cup  of  wine.  I 
There  are  maidens  in  Scotland,  i  more  lovely  by  far, ! 
That  would  gladly  be  bride  I  to  the  young  Lochinvar."  | 

*  The  ballad  of  Lochinvar  is  in  a  very  slight  degree  founded  on 
a  ballad  called  "  Katharine  Janfarie,"  which  may  be  found  in  the 
"  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border/' 

•f  See  the  novel  of  Red  gauntlet,  for  a  detailed  picture  of  some  of 
the  extraordinary  phenomena  of  the  spring-tides  in  the  Solway 
Fritn. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  337 

The  bride  kiss'd  the  goblet ;  I  the  knight  took  it  up,  | 
He  quaff'd  off  the  wine,  I  and  he  threw  down  the  cup.  j 
She  look'd  down  to  blush,  I  and  she  look'd  up  to  sigh,  | 
With  a  smile  on  her  lips,  |  and  a  tear  in  her  eye.  | 
He  took  her  soft  hand,  |  ere  her  mother  could  bar,  —  | 
"  Now  tread  we  a  measure !"  |  said  young  Lochinvar.  I 

So  stately  his  form,  I  and  so  lovely  her  face,  I 
That  never  a  hall  such  a  galliarda  did  grace :  | 
While  her  mother  did  fret,  I  and  her  father  did  fume,  | 
And  the  bridegroom   stood  dangling  his  bonnet   and 

plume ;  | 
And  the  bride-maidens  whisper'd,  I  "  'T  were  better  by 

far) 

To  have  match'd  our  fair  cousin    with  young  Lochin- 
var." | 

One  touch  to  her  hand,  |  and  one  word  in  her  ear,  | 
When  they  reach'd  the  hall-door, !  and  the  charger 

stood  near ;  I 

So  light  to  the  croup    the  fair  lady  he  swung,  | 
So  light  to  the  saddle    before  her  he  sprung !  I 
"  She  is  won !  I  we  are  gone,  I  over  bank,  bush  and 

scaur  ;b  | 
They  Ml  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"    quoth  young 

Lochinvar.  | 

There  was  mounting  'mong  Graemes    of  the  Netherby 

clan ;  I 
Forsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  |  they  rode  and 

they  ran :  I 

There  was  racing,  and  chasing,   on  Cannobie  Lee,  J 
But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby    ne'er  did  they  see.  | 
So  daring  in  love,  I  and  so  dauntless  in  war,  1 
Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gal'lant,   like  young  Lochinvar !  I 

*  G&l'ydrd.     b  Sk&r,  a  craggy,  stony  hill ;  a  cliff,  cleft,  or  divi- 
sion, or  separation  in  a  bank,  hill,  or  any  thing  else. 
29  Y 


338  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

CASABIANCA.* 

(MRS.  HEMANS.) 

The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  dec&,  | 

Whence  all  bu*  him  had  fled ;  | 
The  flame  tha*  lit  the  battle's  wrecfc,  I 

Shone  round  him  o'er  the  dead.  I 

Ye*  beautiful  and  bright  he  stood,  | 

As  born  to  rule  the  storm ;  | 
A  creature  of  heroic  blood,  | 

A  proud,  though  child-li&e  form.  I 

The  flames  roll'd  on  —  |  he  would  no*  go,  » 

Without  his  father's  word ;  | 
Tha*  father,  fain*  in  death  below,  j 

His  voice  no  longer  heard.  | 

He  call'd  aloud  —  |  "  Say,  father,  say  | 

If  yet  my  task  is  done  ?"  I 
He  knew  not  that  the  chieftain  lay  | 

Unconscious  of  his  son.  | 

"  Spea&,  father !"  |  once  again  he  cried,  | 

"  If  I  may  ye*  be  gone !"  | 
And  bu*  the  booming  shots  replied,  I 

And  fas*  the  flames  roll'd  on.  | 

Upon  his  brow  he  felt  their  breath,  | 

And  in  his  waving  hair ;  I 
And  look'd  from  that  lone  pos*  of  death,  1 

In  still,  ye*  brave  despair.  | 

*  Young  Casablanca,  a  boy  about  thirteen  years  old,  son  to  tho 
admiral  of  the  Orient,  remained  at  his  post  (in  the  battle  of  the 
Nile,)  after  the  ship  had  taken  fire,  and  all  the  guns  had  been 
abandoned ;  and  perished  in  the  explosion  of  the  vessel,  when  the 
flames  had  reached  the  powder. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  339 

And  shouted  but  once  more  ,  alow/,  | 

"  My  father !  must  I  stay  ?"  | 
While  o'er  him  fas/,  through  sail  and  shroud,  1 

The  wreathing  fires  made  way.  | 

They  wrap/  the  ship  in  splendor  wild,  j 

They  caugh/  the  flag  on  high,  | 
And  stream'd  above  the  gallant  child,  | 

Li/te  banners  in  the  sky.  | 

There  came  a  burs*  of  thunder  sound  —  1 
The  boy  —  I  oh !  where  was  he  ?  | 

AsA;  of  the  winds  tha/  far  around  | 
With  fragments  strew'd  the  sea !  | 

With  mas/,  and  helm,  and  pennon  fair,  | 
Tha/  well  had  borne  their  par/  —  I 

Bu/  the  nobles/  thing  tha/  perish'd  there,  | 
Was  tha/  young  faithful  hear/.  ] 


MEETING    OF    SATAN,    SIN,    AND    DEATH. 

(MILTON.) 

Meanwhile  the  adversary  of  God  and  man,  | 
Satan,  I  with  thoughts  inflarn'd  of  highes/  design,  | 
Puts  on  swift  wings, !  and  towards  the  gates  of  Hell  j 
Explores  Ais  solitary  fligh/ ;  I  sometimes 
He  scours  the  righ/  hand  coast,  |  sometimes  the  left ;  \ 
Now  shaves  with  level  wing  the  dee;?,  i  then  soars 
Up  to  the  fiery  concave  I  towering  high.  | 

As  when  far  off  a/  sea  a  flee/  descried  | 

Hangs  in  the  clouds,  1  by  equinoctial  winds  | 

Close  sailing  from  Bengala,  I  or  the  isles 

Of  Terna/e  and  Tidore,  I  whence  merchants  bring 

Their  spicy  drugs ;  I  they,  on  the  trading  flood,  | 

Through  the  wide  Ethiopian  to  the  Cape,  I 

Ply,  |  stemming  nightly  toward  the  pole :  |  so  seenVd 

Far  off*  the  flying  fiend.  I 


340  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

At  last  appear 

Hell  bounds,  |  high,  reaching  to  the  horrid  roof,  | 
And  thrice  three  fold  the  gates :  |  three   folds  were 

brass,  | 

Three  iron,  I  three  of  adamantine  rocA: 
Impenetrable,  I  impaled  with  circling  fire,  | 
Ye*  unconsum'd.   I    Before  the  gates  |  there  sat, 
On  either  side,  |  a  formidable  shape :  I 
The  one  seem'd  woman  to  the  waist,  and  fair ;  I 
Bu£  ended  foul  in  many  a  scaly  fold  | 
Voluminous  and  \ast,  I  a  serpent,  arm'd 
With  mortal  sting ;  I  about  her  middle  round  | 
A  cry  of  hell-hounds,  never  ceasing,  bark'd  | 
With  wide  Cerberean  mouths  I  full  loud,  and  rung 
A  hideous  peal !  | 

Far  less  abhorr'd  than  these  | 
Vex'd  Scylla,a  |  bathing  in  the  sea  i  that  parts 
Calabriab  |  from  the  hoarse  Trinacrianc  shore ;  I 
Nor  uglier  follow  the  night  hag,    when,  call'd 
In  secret,  I  riding  through  the  air,  she  comes,  | 
Lured  with  the  smell  of  infant  blood,  |  to  dance 
With  Lapland  witches,  I  while  the  labouring  moon  | 
Eclipses  at  their  charms.  | 

The  other  shape,  | 

If  shape  it  mighZ  be  call'd  |  that  shape  had  none  ] 
Distinguishable  in  member,  join£,  or  limb;  | 
Or  substance  might  be  call'd  |  that  shadow  seem'd;  i 
For  each  seem'd  either ;  I  blacA;  it  stood  as  night,  \ 
Fierce  as  ten  furies,  I  terrible  as  Hell,  | 
And  shook  a  dreadful  dart ;  I  what  seem'd  his  head  \ 
The  likeness  of  a  kingly  crown  had  on.  | 

a  SCYLLA,  a  fabled  monster,  of  whom  mention  is  made  in  the 
Odyssey.  She  is  said  to  have  twelve  feet  and  six  long  necks,  with 
a  terriric  head,  and  three  rows  of  close-set  teeth,  on  each. 

b  CALABRIA,  the  part  of  Italy  occupied  by  the  ancient  Calabri. 
,  one  of  the  ancient  names  of  Sicily. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  341 

Satan  was  now  at  hand ;  I  and  from  his  seat  I 
The  monster,  moving,  I  onward  came  as  fas£,  | 
With  horrid  strides ;  I  Hell  trembled  as  he  strode.  I 
The  undaunted  fiend  I  wha£  this  might  be  admired,  | 
Admired,  |  not  fear'd :  I  God  and  his  Son  except  I 
Created  thing  I  naught  valued  he,  |  nor  shunn'd  ;  j 
And  with  disdainful  loo&  |  thus  first  began :  | 

"  Whence  and  wha*  art  thou,  |  execrable  shape !  I 
That  dar'sf,  |  though  grim  and  terrible,  |  advance 
Thy  miscreated  fron£  I  athwart  my  way 
To  yonder  gates  ?  I  through  them  I  mean  to  pass,  I 
That  be  assured,  I  without  leave  ask'd  of  thee.  j 
Retire,  I  or  taste  thy  folly ;  I  and  learn  by  proof,  | 
Hell-born  !  |  not  to  contend  with  spirits  of  Heaven !"  | 

To  whom  the  goblin,  full  of  wrath,  replied,  | 
"  Art  thou  that  traitor  angel,  I  art  thou  he 
Who  first  broke  peace  in  heaven,  I  and  faith,  |  till  then 
Unbroken,  I  and  in  proud  rebellious  arms  | 
Drew  after  him  the  third  par£  of  Heaven's  sons,  I 
Conjured  against  the  Highest,  I  for  which  both  thou 
And  they,  I  outcast  from  God,  I  are  here  condemned  I 
To  waste  eternal  days  in  woe  and  pain  ?  I 

And  reckonesZ  thou  thyself  with  spirits  of  Heaven,  | 
Hell-doom'd  /  I  and  breath's^  defiance  here  and  scorn,  | 
Where  I  reign  king,  I  and,  to  enrage  thee  more,  | 
Thy  king,  and  lord  ?  \  BacA;  to  thy  punishment,  I 
False  fugitive !  I  and  to  thy  speed  add  wings,  | 
Les£  with  a  whip  of  scorpions  I  I  pursue 
Thy  lingering,  |  or  with  one  stro/ce  of  this  dart  I 
Strange  horror  seize  thee,  I  and  pangs  unfeU  before."  | 

So  spa&e  the  grisly  terror,  |  and  in  shajoe,  | 
So  speaking  and  so  threat'ning,  1  grew  tenfold 
More  dreadful  and  deform.   I    On  the  other  side,  | 
Incens'd  with  indignation,  |  Satan  stood 
Unterrified, !  and  like  a  corned  burn'd,  | 
29* 


342  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

Thai  fires  the  length  of  Ophiucusa  huge  | 
In  the  arctic  sky,  |  and  from  his  horrid  hair  I 
Shakes  pestilence  and  war.  | 

Each  at  the  head  | 

LevelPd  his  deadly  aim ;  |  their  fatal  hands  | 
No  second  strode  intend ;  |  and  such  a  frown 
Each  cast  at  the  other,  I  as  when  two  black  clouds  1 
With  heaven's  artillery  fraught,  ( come  rattling  on 
Over  the  Caspian,  |  then  stand  front  to  front  \ 
Hovering  a  space,  |  till  winds  the  signal  blow  | 
To  join  their  darA:  encounter  in  mid  air :  | 

So  frown'd  the  mighty  combatants,  I  tha£  hell 

Grew  darker  at  their  frown ;  I  so  match'd  they  stood;  I 

For  never  but  once  more  |  was  either  like 

To  meet  so  great  a  foe.   |    And  now  great  deeds 

H&d  been  achiev'd,  |  whereof6  all  Hell  had  rung,  | 

Had  not  the  snaky  sorceress  |  that  sat 

Fast  by  Hell-gate,  I  and  kepi  the  fatal  key,  I 

Risen,  |  and  with  hideous  outcry  rush'd  between.  | 


WOMAN. 
(CAMPBELL.) 

In  joyous  youth,  what  soul  hath  never  known  I 
Thought,  feeling,  taste,  harmonious  to  its  own?  | 
Who  hath  not  paused  while  Beauty's  pensive  eye  | 
Ask'd  from  his  heart  the  homage  of  a  sigh  1  \ 
Who  hath  not  own'd,  with  rapture-smitten  frame, ! 
The  power  of  grace, '|  the  magic  of  a  name?  | 

There  be,  perhaps,  who  barren  hearts  avow,  | 
Cold  as  the  rocks  on  Torneo's  hoary  brow ;  | 
There  be,  whose  loveless  wisdom  never  fail'd,  I 
In  self-adoring  pride  securely  mail'd ;  —  | 


OPHIUCUS,  a  constellation.    »>  WMr-6f . 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  343 

But,  triumph  noZ,  ye  peace-enamour'd  few !  | 
Fire,  Nature,  Genius,  never  dweU  with  you !  J 
For  you  no  fancy  consecrates  the  scene  I 
Where  rapture  utter'd  vows,  and  wep*  between : 
'T  is  yours,  unmoved,  to  sever  and  to  meet ;  I 
No  pledge  is  sacred,  1  and  no  home  is  sweei  /  I 

Who  tha£  would  asA;  a  heart  to  dullness  wed,  I 
The  waveless  calm,  |  the  slumber  of  the  dead  ?  ( 
No ;  |  the  wild  bliss  of  nature  needs  alloy,  | 
And  fear  and  sorrow  fan  the  fire  of  joy !  | 
And  say  without  our  hopes,  without  our  fears,  | 
Without  the  home  thai  plighted  love  endears,  | 
Without  the  smile  from  partial  beauty  won,  I 
O !  wha*  were  man  ?  —  I  a  world  without  a  sun  ,  i 

Till  Hymen  brought  ^is  love-delighted  hour,  | 

There  dwelt  no  joy  in  Eden's  rosy  bower !  I 

In  vain  the  viewless  seraph  lingering  there,  I 

A*  starry  midnight  charm'd  the  silent  air ;  ] 

In  vain  the  wild-bird  carol'd  on  the  steep,  | 

To  hail  the  sun,  slow-wheeling  from  the  deep ;  \ 

In  vain,  to  soothe  the  solitary  shade,  | 

Aerial  notes  in  mingling  measure  play'd ;  | 

The  summer  wind  thai  shook  the  spangled  tree,  I 

The  whispering  wave,  the  murmur  of  the  bee ;  —  i 

Still  slowly  pass'd  the  melancholy  day,  I 

And  still  the  stranger  wist  not  where"  to  stray :  | 

The  world  was  sad/  |  the  garden  was  a  wild/  I 

And  man,  the  hermit  sigh'd  —  |  till  woman  smiPd  / 1 


SINCERITY. 

(TILLOTSON.) 

Truth  and  sincerity  |  have  all  the  advantages  of  ap 
pearance,  and  many  more.   |   If  the  show  of  any  thing 
be  good, !  I  am  sure  the  reality  is  better ;  |  for  why 


344  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

does  any  man  dissemble,a  |  or  seem  to  be  thai  which 
he  is  noi,  —  |  but  because  he  thinks  it  good  \  to  have 
the  qualities  Ae  pretends  to  ?  I  Now  the  besi  way  for 
a  man  to  seem  to  be  any  thing,  |  is  to  be  in  reality 
what  he  would  seem  to  be  :  I  besides,  —  )  it  is  often  as 
troublesome  to  support  the  pretence  of  a  good  quality,  | 
as  to  have  it :  \  and,  if  a  man  have  it  not,  \  it  is  most 
likely  he  will  be  discovered  to  want  it ;  \  and,  then,  all 
his  labour  to  seem  to  have  it,  is  lost.  \  There  is  some- 
thing unnatural  in  painting,  |  which  a  skilful  eye  |  will 
easily  discernb  from  native  beauty  and  complexion.  | 

Therefore,  if  any  man  think  it  convenient  to  seem 
good,  |  let  him  be  so  indeed ;  I  and  then  his  goodness 
will  appear  to  every  one's  satisfaction.  I  Particularly, 
as  to  the  affairs  of  this  world,  I  integrity  hath  many 
advantages  I  over  all  the  artificial  modes  of  dissimula- 
tion and  deceit  |  It  is  much  the  plainer  and  easier, —  | 
much  the  safer,  and  more  secure  way  of  dealing  in  the 
world;  |  it  has  less  of  trouble  and  difficulty,  |  of  entan- 
glement and  perplexity,  |  of  danger  and  hazard  in  it.  \ 

The  arts  of  deceit  and  cunning  I  continually  grow 
weaker,  and  less  serviceable  to  those  thai  practise 
them  ;  I  whereas  integrity  gains  strength  by  use  ;  |  and 
the  more  and  longer  any  man  practiseth  it  \  the  greater 
service  it  does  him ;  I  by  confirming  Ais  reputation,  | 
and  encouraging  those  with  whom  he  hath  to  do,  |  to 
repose  the  greatest  confidence  in  him ;  I  which  is  an 
unspeakable  advantage  in  business  |  and  the  affairs  of 
life.  | 

Bui  insincerity  is  very  troublesome  to  manage.  |  A 
hypocrite  hath  so  many  things  to  attend  to,  I  as  make 
his  life  a  very  perplexed  and  intricate  thing.  |  A  liar 
hath  need  of  a  good  memory,  |  lesi  he  contradici  at  one 
time,  I  whai  he  said  at  another ;  but  truth  is  always 
consistent,  I  and  needs  nothing  to  help  it  oui ;  f  it  is 
always  near  at  hand,  I  and  sits  upon  our  lips  ;  |  whereas 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  345 

a  lie  is  troublesome,  I  and  needs  a  great  many  more  to 
make  it  good.  I 

In  a  word,  I  whatsoever  convenience  may  be  though* 
to  be  in  falsehood  and  dissimulation,  1  it  is  soon  over ;  | 
but  the  inconvenience  of  it  i%  perpetual ;  I  because  it 
brings  a  man  |  under  an  everlasting  jealousy  and  sus- 
picion ;  1  so  thai  he  is  not  believed  when  he  speaks  the 
truth ;  |  nor  trusted  when,  perhaps,  he  means  honestly.  | 
When  a  man  hath  once  forfeited  the  reputation  of  ^is 
integrity,  —  I  nothing  will  then  serve  his  turn ;  I  neither 
truth  nor  falsehood.  | 

Indeed,  if  a  man  were  only  to  deal  in  the  world  for 
a  day,  |  and  should  never  have  occasion  to  converse 
more  with  mankind,  I  it  were  then  no  great  matter  |  (as 
far  as  respects  the  affairs  of  this  world)  |  if  he  speni 
his  reputation  all  at  once ;  |  or  ventured  it  at  one 
throw.  |  Bui  if  he  be  to  continue  in  the  world,  |  and 
would  have  the  advantage  of  reputation  whilst  he  is 
in  it,  |  lei  him  make  use  of  truth  and  sincerity  |  in  all 
his  words  and  actions  ;  |  for  nothing  bui  this  will  hold 
oui  to  the  end.  |  All  other  arts  may  fail ;  |  bui  truth 
and  integrity  |  will  carry  a  man  through,  |  and  bear 
Aim  out  to  the  last. ! 


THE  UNION  OF  THE  STATES. 

(WEBSTER.) 

From  an  Address  delivered  at  Washington  City,  on  the  Centennial  Anniversarj 
of  the  Birth  of  Washington. 

There  was  in  the  breast  of  Washington  |  one  senti 
meni  deeply  felt,  \  so  constantly  uppermost,  |  thai  no 
proper  occasion  I  escaped  without  its  utterance. — /> 
From  the  letter  which  he  signed  in  behalf  of  the  con- 
vention, |  when  the  constitution  was  sen*  out  to  the 
people,  |  to  the  moment  when  he  put  his  hand  to  thai 
lasi  paper,  |  in  which  he  addressed  his  countrymen,  ( 
the  union  was  the  great  object  of  his  thoughts.  | 

In  thai  first  letter,  |  he  tells  them  thai  to  him,  |  and 


346  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

his  brethren  of  the  convention,  |  union  is  the  greatest 
interest  of  every  true  American ;  |  and  in  tha£  las* 
paper  I  he  conjures  them  to  regard  that  unity  of  go- 
vernment, I  which  constitutes  them  one  people,  j  as  the 
very  palladiuma  of  thei$,  prosperity  and  safety,  |  and 
the  security  of  liberty  itself.  I  He  regarded  the  union 
of  these  states,  j  not  so  much  one  of  our  blessings,  !  as 
the  greaZ  treasure-house  which  contained  them  all.  | 

Here,  in  his  judgment,  |  was  the  grea£  magazine  of 
all  our  means  of  prosperity ;  |  here,  as  he  thought,  j  and 
as  every  true  American  still  thinks,  I  are  deposited  all 
our  animating  prospects,  |  all  our  solid  hopes  for  future 
greatness.  |  He  has  taught  us  to  maintain  this  govern- 
ment, |  not  by  seeking  to  enlarge  its  powers  on  the  one 
hand,  |  nor  by  surrendering  them  on  the  other ;  |  but  by 
an  administration  of  them,  |  a.t  once  firm  and  moder- 
ate, |  adapted  for  objects  truly  national,  |  and  carried 
on  in  a  spirit  of  justice  and  equity.  | 

The  extreme  solicitude  for  the  preservation  of  the 
union,  |  at  all  times  manifested  by  him,  \  shows  not  only 
the  opinion  he  entertained  of  its  usefulness,  |  but  his 
clear  perception  of  those  causes  |  which  were  likely  to 
spring  up  to  endanger  it,  |  and  which,  |  if  once  they 
should  overthrow  the  present  system,  !  would  leave 
little  fio/?e  of  any  future  beneficial  reunion.  | 

Of  all  the  presumptions  indulged  by  presumptuous 
man,  |  tha£  is  one  of  the  rashes^,  |  which  looks  for  re- 
peated and  favourable  opportunities,  |  for  the  deliberate 
establishment  of  a  united  government,  |  over  distinct 
and  widely  extended  communities.  |  Such  a  thing  has 
happened  once  in  human  affairs,  |  and  but  once :  j  the 
event  stands  out,  as  a  prominent  exception  to  all  ordi- 
nary history  ;  |  and,  unless  we  suppose  ourselves  run- 
ning into  an  age  of  miracles,  |  we  may  no*  expect  its 
repetition.  | 


a  P^l-li'-de-um,  [Lat]  a  statue  of  Pallas,  pretended  to  be   the 
guardian  of  Troy ;  thence  any  security  or  protection. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  347 

Washington,  therefore,  1  could  regard,  I  and  did  re- 
gard, |  nothing  as  of  paramount  political  interest,  |  but 
the  integrity  of  the  union  itself.  |  With  a  united  go- 
vernment, |  well  administered,  |  he  saw  we  had  nothing 
to  fear ;  |  and  without  it,  \  nothing  to  hope.  |  The 
sentiment  is  jusi,  I  and  its  momentous  truth  should 
solemnly  impress  the  whole  country.  | 

If  we  mighi  regard  our  country  I  as  personated  in 
the  spirit  of  Washington ;  I  if  we  mighi  consider  him 
as  representing  her,  \  in  Aer  pasi  renown,  I  her  present 
prosperity,  i  and  her  future  career,  I  and  as  in  thai  cha- 
racter demanding  of  us  all,  |  to  account  for  our  con- 
duct, as  political  men,  I  or  as  private  citizens,  |  how 
should  he  answer  him,  \  who  has  ventured  to  tal/c  of 
disunion11  and  dismemberment  ?b  \  Or,  how  should  he 
answer  him,  \  who  dwells  perpetually  on  local  inter- 
ests, |  and  fans  every  kindling  flame  of  local  prejudice  ?  | 
How  should  he  answer  him,  \  who  would  array  state 
against  state,  I  interest  against  interest,  |  and  party 
against  party,  |  careless  of  the  continuance  of  thai 
unity  of  government  \  which  constitutes  us  one  people  ?  \ 

Gentlemen,  I  the  political  prosperity  which  this  coun- 
try has  attained,  I  and  which  it  now  enjoys,  |  it  has  ac- 
quired mainly  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  pre- 
sent goverttmeni.  |  While  this  ageni  continues,  the 
capacity  of  attaining  to  still  higher  degrees  of  pros- 
perity |  exisis  also.  I  We  have,  while  this  lasis,  |  a 
political  life,  capable  of  beneficial  exertion,  |  with 
power  to  resist  or  overcome  misfortunes,  !  to  sustain  us 
against  the  ordinary  accidents  of  human  affairs,  |  and 
to  promote,  by  active  efforts,  I  every  public  interest  | 

Bui  dismemberment  I  strikes  at  the  very  being  which 
preserves  these  faculties ;  i  it  would  lay  its  rude  and 
ruthless  hand  |  on  this  greai  ageni  itself.  !  It  would 
sweep  away,  not  only  whai  we  possess,  |  but  all  power 
of  regaining  lost,  \  or  acquiring  new  possessions.0  I  It 


348  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

would  leave  the  country,  I  no*  only  bereft  of  its  pros 
perity  and  happiness,  |  bui  withoui  limbs,  or  organs,  or 
faculties,  I  by  which  to  exert  itself,  hereafter,  |  in  the 
pursuit  of  thai  prosperity  and  happiness.  | 

Other  misfortunes  may  be  borne,  |  or  their  effecis 
overcome.  I  If  disastrous  war  sweep  our  commerce 
from  the  ocean,  |  another  generation  may  renew  ii ;  |  if 
it  exAausi  our  treasury,  I  future  industry  may  replenish 
it ;  |  if  it  desolate  and  lay  waste  our  fields,  |  still,  under 
a  new  cultivation,  !  they  will  grow  green  again,  |  and 
ripen  to  future  harvests.  |  It  were  but  a  trifle,  I  even 
if  the  walls  of  yonder  Capitol  were  to  crumble,  I  if  its 
lofty  pillars  should  fall,  |  and  its  gorgeous  decorations 
be  all  covered  by  the  dust  of  the  valley.  I 

All  these  might  be  rebuild  |  Bui  who  shall  recon- 
struct the  fabric  of  demolished  government  ?  \  Who 
shall  rear  again  I  the  well  proportioned  columns*  of 
constitutional  liberty  ?  I  Who  shall  frame  together  the 
skilful  architecture  |  which  unites  national  sovereignty  j 
with  state  rights,  |  individual  security,  and  public  pros- 
perity ?  | 

No,  gentlemen,  |  if  these  columns  fall,  j  they  will  be 
raised  not  again.  I  Li/ce  the  Colise'umb  and  the  Par- 
thenon,0 1  they  will  be  destined  to  a  mournful,  \  a  melan- 
choly immortality.  I  Bitterer  tears,  however,  will  flow 
over  them,  i  than  were  ever  shed  over  the  monuments 
of  Roman  or  Grecian  art ;  for  they  will  be  the  rem- 
nants of  a  more  glorious  edifice  I  than  Greece  or  Rome 
ever  saw  —  |  the  edifice  of  constitutional  American 
liberty.  | 

Bui,  gentlemen,  i  lei  us  hope  for  better  things.  |  Let 
us  trusi  in  thai  Gracious  Being,  I  who  has  hitherto  held 
our  country  |  as  in  the  holl  jw  of  ^is  hand.  |  Let  us 
trusi  to  the  virtue  and  the  intelligence  of  the  people,  ] 

•K6l'l&mi.  ICOLISE'UM,  an  amphitheatre  at  Rome,  in  which 
the  people  assembled  to  witness  the  combats  of  gladiators  and  wild 
beas{s.  It  is  said  to  be  capable  of  containing  60,000  spectators. 
*  PAR'THENON,  a  celebrated  temple  at  Athens,  sacred  to  Minerva. 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  349 

and  to  the  efficacy  of  religious  obligation.  I  Let  us 
trust  to  the  influence  of  Washington's  example.  |  Let 
us  hope  that  tha£  fear  of  Heaven,  |  which  expels  all 
other  fear,  and  that  regard  to  duty,  I  which  transcends 
all  other  regard,  I  may  influence  public  men  and  pri- 
vate citizens,!  and  lead  our  country  still  onward  in  her 
happy  career.  | 

Full  of  these  gratifying  anticipations  and  hopes,  |  let 
us  look  forward  to  the  end  of  tha*  century  |  which  is 
now  commenced.  A  hundred  years  hence,  I  other  dis- 
ciples of  Washington  !  will  celebrate  his  birth,  |  with 
no  less  of  sincere  admiration  I  than  we  now  commemo- 
rate it.  |  When  they  shall  meet,  \  as  we  now  meet,  \  to 
do  themselves  and  him  that  honour,  j  so  surely  as  they 
shall  see  the  blue  summits  of  his  native  mountains  | 
rise  in  the  horizon ;  I  so  surely  as  they  shall  behold  the 
river  |  on  whose  banks  he  lived,  |  and  on  whose  banks 
he  rests,  \  still  flowing  to  the  sea ;  I  so  surely  may  they 
see,  |  as  we  now  see,  |  the  flag  of  the  union  floating  on 
the  top  of  the  Capitol ;  I  and  then,  as  now,  1  may  the 
sun  in  his  course  |  visi*  no  land  more  free,  I  more  happy,  | 
more  lovely,  |  than  this  our  own  country.  | 


RECEPTION  OF  COLUMBUS  ON  HIS  RETURN  TO  SPAIN. 
(WASHINGTON  IRVING.) 

The  fame  of  Ais  discovery  I  had  resounded  through- 
out the  nation,  |  and  as  Ais  route  |  lay  through  several 
of  the  fines*  I  and  mos*  populous  provinces  of  Spain,  | 
his  journey  appeared  like  the  progress  of  a  sovereign.  | 
Wherever  he  passed,  I  the  surrounding  country  poured 
forth  its  inhabitants,  ]  who  lined  the  road  and  thronged 
the  villages.  |  In  the  large  towns,  |  the  streets,  win- 
dows, and  balconies,  |  were  filled  with  eager  specta- 
tors. I  who  ren£  the  air  with  acclamations.  I 

His  journey  was  continually  impeded  I  by  the  multi- 
tude |  pressing  to  gain  a  sigh*  of  him,  \  and  of  the  In- 
dians, |  who  were  regarded  with  as  much  admiration  ] 
30 


350  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

as  if  they  had  been  natives  of  another  plane*.  |  It  was 
impossible  to  satisfy  the  craving  curiosity  j  which  as- 
sailed Aimself  and  his  attendants,  |  at  every  stage,  I 
with  innumerable  questions:  j  popular  rumour,  as  usual,  | 
had  exaggerated  the  truth,  |  and  had  filled  the  newly- 
found  country  with  all  kinds  of  wonders.  | 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  April,  I  that  Columbus 
arrived  at  Barcelona, )  where  every  preparation  had 
been  made  I  to  give  Mm  a  solemn  and  magnificent  re- 
ception. |  The  beauty  and  serenity  of  the  weather,  | 
in  ihat  genial  season  and  favoured  climate,  I  contributed 
to  give  splendour  to  this  memorable  ceremony.  |  As 
he  drew  near  the  place,  |  many  of  the  more  youthful 
courtiers,  I  and  hidal'gosa  of  gallant  bearing,  I  together 
with  a  vast  concourse  of  the  populace,  |  came  forth  to 
meet  and  welcome  him.  \ 

His  entrance  into  this  noble  city  I  has  been  compared 
to  one  of  those  triumphs,  |  which  the  Romans  were  ac- 
customed to  decree  to  conquerors.  |  Firs*  were  para- 
ded the  Indians,  I  painted  according  to  their  savage 
fashion,  |  and  decorated  with  tropical  feathers,  I  and 
with  their  national  ornaments  of  gold;  I  after  these 
were  borne  various  kinds  of  live  parrots,  |  together 
with  stuffed  birds  and  animals  of  unknown  species,  | 
and  rare  plants,  supposed  to  be  of  precious  qualities :  j 
while  great  care  was  taken  to  make  a  conspicuous  dis- 
play of  Indian  coronets,  1  bracelets,  |  and  other  decora- 
tions of  gold,  |  which  might  give  an  idea  of  the  wealth 
of  the  newly-discovered  regions.  |  After  these  follow- 
ed Columbus,  on  horseback,  !  surrounded  by  a  brilliant 
cavalcade  of  Spanish  chivalry.  | 

The  streets  were  almost  impassable  from  the  count- 
less multitude;  I  the  windows  and  balconies  were 
crowded  with  the  fair ;  I  the  very  roofs  were  covered 
with  spectators.  |  It  seemed,  as  if  the  public  eye  could 
not  be  sated  |  with  gazing  on  these  trophies  of  an  un- 

*  Hidal'go,  (Spanish)  a  noble  man  or  woman. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  351 

known  world,  |  or  on  the  remarkable  man  by  whom  it 
had  been  discovered,  i  There  was  a  sublimity  in  this 
even*,  |  thai  mingled  a  solemn  feeling  with  the  public 
joy.  |  It  was  looked  upon  as  a  vasi  and  signal  dispen- 
sation of  Providence,  I  in  reward  for  the  piety  of  the 
monarchs ;  I  and  the  majestic  and  venerable  appearance 
of  the  discoverer,  I  so  different  from  the  youth  and 
buoyancy*  |  thai  are  generally  expected  from  roving 
enterprise,  1  seemed  in  harmony  with  the  grandeur  and 
dignity  of  his  achievement.  I 

To  receive  him  with  suitable  pomp  and  distinction,  | 
the  sovereigns  had  ordered  their  throne  to  be  placed 
in  public,  |  under  a  rich  canopy  of  brocadeb  of  gold, ) 
in  a  vasi  and  splendid  saloon.  |  Here  the  king  and 
queen  awaited  Ais  arrival,  |  seated  in  state  with  the 
prince  Juan  beside  them,  I  and  attended  by  the  digni- 
taries of  their  couri,  j  and  the  principal  nobility  of 
Castile,  |  Valentia,  |  Catalonia,  |  and  Arragon,  i  all  im- 
patieni  to  behold  the  man,  i  who  had  conferred  so  in- 
calculable a  benefit  upon  the  nation.  | 

At  length  Columbus  entered  the  hall,  !  surrounded 
by  a  brilliant  crowd  of  cavaliers,  I  among  whom,  says 
Las  Casas,  |  he  was  conspicuous  for  his  stately  and 
commanding  person,  |  which,  with  his  countenance 
rendered  venerable  by  fas  gray  hairs,  I  gave  him  the 
augusi  appearance  of  a  senator  of  Rome.  |  A  modesi 
smile  lighted  up  his  features,  |  showing  that  he  enjoyed 
the  state  and  glory  in  which  he  came ;  |  and  certainly 
nothing  could  be  more  deeply  moving,  |  to  a  mind  in- 
flamed by  noble  ambition,  |  and  conscious  of  having 
greatly  deserved,  I  than  were  these  testimonials  of  the 
admiration  and  gratitude  of  a  nation,  |  or  rather  of  a 
world.  | 

As  Columbus  approached,  |  the  sovereigns  rose,  |  as 
if  receiving  a  person  of  the  highest  ran/c.  |  Bending 
his  knees,  |  he  requested  to  kiss  their  hands ;  |  but  there 


352  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

•was  some  hesitation  on  the  par£  of  their  majesties  |  to 
permit  this  act  of  vassalage.  |  Raising  him  in  the 
rnos£  gracious  manner,  |  they  ordered  Aim  to  seat  Aim- 
self  in  their  presence ;  |  a  rare  honour  in  this  proud 
and  punctilious  court.  | 

At  the  request  of  their  majesties,  |  Columbus  now 
gave  an  account  of  the  mos£  striking  events  of  A  is  voy- 
age, |  and  a  description  of  the  islands  which  he  had 
discovered.  1  He  displayed  the  specimens  Ae  had 
brought  1  of  unknown  birds  and  other  animals ;  |  of  rare 
plants,  of  medicinal  and  aromatic  virtue ;  |  of  native 
gold,  |  in  dusZ,  I  in  crude  masses,  |  or  laboured  into  bar- 
baric ornaments ;  I  and,  above  all,  I  the  natives  of  these 
countries,  |  who  were  objects  of  intense  and  inexAaust- 
ible  interest ;  I  since  there  is  nothing  to  man  1  so  curi- 
ous as  the  varieties  of  Ais  own  species.  I  All  these  he 
pronounced  mere  harbingers  of  greater  discoveries  I  he 
had  yet  to  make,  |  which  would  add  realms  of  incalcu- 
lable wealth  to  the  dominions  of  their  majesties,  |  and 
whole  nations  of  proselytes  to  the  true  faith.  | 

The  words  of  Columbus  |  were  listened  to  with  pro- 
found emotion  by  the  sovereigns.  |  When  he  had 
finished,  I  they  sunk  on  their  knees,  I  and  raising  their 
clasped  hands  to  heaven,  |  their  eyes  filled  with  tears 
of  joy  and  gratitude,  |  they  poured  forth  thanks  and 
praises  to  God  for  so  great  a  providence ;  |  all  present 
followed  their  example ;  I  a  deep  and  solemn  enthusiasm 
pervaded  that  splendid  assembly,  1  and  prevented  all 
common  acclamations  of  triumph.  I 

The  anthem  of  Te  Deum  laudamus*  \  chanted  by 
the  choir  of  the  royal  chapel,  1  with  the  melodious  ac- 
companiments of  the  instruments,  rose  up  from  the 
midsZ,  I  in  a  full  body  of  sacred  harmony,  I  bearing  up. 
as  it  were,  i  the  feelings  and  thoughts  of  the  auditors 
to  heaven,  I '  so  that,'  says  the  venerable  Las  Casas,  | 
'  it  seemed  as  if  in  that  hour  they  communicated  with 

a  We  praise  thee,  God. 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  353 

celestial  delights.'  1  Such  was  the  solemn  and  pious 
manner  I  in  which  the  brilliant  court  of  Spain,  I  cele- 
brated this  sublime  event :  \  offering  up  a  grateful  tri- 
bute of  melody  and  praise ;  |  and  giving  glory  to  God 
for  the  discovery  of  another  world.  | 

When  Columbus  retired  from  the  royal  presence,  I 
he  was  attended  to  7iis  residence  by  all  the  court,  I  and 
followed  by  the  shouting  populace.  |  For  many  days 
he  was  the  object  of  universal  curiosity,  I  and  wherever 
he  appeared,  |  he  was  surrounded  by  an  admiring  mul- 
titude. | 


ADAMS    AND   JEFFERSON. 
(WIRT.) 

In  the  structure  of  their  characters ;  |  in  the  course 
of  their  action ;  I  in  the  striking  coincidences  which 
marked  their  high  career ;  |  in  the  lives  and  in  the 
deaths  of  these  illustrious  men,  I  and  in  thai  voice  of 
admiration  and  gratitude  |  which  has  since  bursi,  with 
one  accord,  j  from  the  twelve  millions  of  freemen  who 
people  these  states,  |  there  is  a  moral  sublimity  which 
overwhelms  the  mind,  |  and  hushes  all  its  powers  into 
silent  amazement  | 

The  European,  who  should  have  heard  the  sound  | 
without  apprehending  the  cause,  |  would  be  api  to  in- 
quire, —  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  |  what 
have  these  men  done  I  to  elicii  this  unanimous  and 
splendid  acclamation?  I  Why  has  the  whole  Ameri- 
can nation  risen  up,  as  one  man,  |  to  do  them  honour,  j 
and  offer  to  them  this  enthusiastic  homage  of  the 
heart  ?  \  Were  they  mighty  warriors,  I  and  was  the 
peal  thai  we  have  heard,  the  shoui  of  victory  ?  I 

Were  they  great  commanders,  returning  from  their 
distant  conquests,  I  surrounded  with  the  spoils  of  war,  i 
and  was  this  the  sound  of  their  triumphal  procession  ?  j 
Were  they  covered  with  martial  glory  in  any  form,  j 
and  was  this  « the  noisy  wave  of  the  multitude,  |  rolling 
30*  z 


354  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

bacA:  at  their  approach  V  \  Nothing  of  all  this :  |  No ;  j 
they  were  peaceful  and  aged  patriots,  \  who,  having 
served  their  country  together,  |  through  their  long  and 
useful  lives,  |  had  now  sunA;  together  to  the  tomb.  | 

They  had  not  fought  battles ;  1  but  they  had  formed 
and  moved  the  great  machinery,  |  of  which  battles 
were  only  a  small,  I  and,  comparatively,  trivial  conse- 
quence. 1  They  had  not  commanded  armies ;  j  but 
they  had  commanded  the  master  springs  of  the  nation,  I 
on  which  all  its  great  political,  as  well  as  military 
movements,  depended.  I  By  the  wisdom  and  energy 
of  their  counsels,  i  and  by  the  potent  mastery  of  their 
spirits,  |  they  had  contributed  preeminently  to  produce 
a  mighty  revolution,  I  which  has  changed  the  aspect 
of  the  world.  | 

A  revolution  which,  in  one-half  of  that  world,  |  has 
already  restored  man  to  his  '  long  lost  liberty ;'  |  and 
government  to  its  only  legitimate  object,  I  the  happi- 
ness of  the  people :  |  and,  on  the  other  hemisphere,  | 
has  thrown  a  light  so  strong,  |  that  even  the  darkness 
of  despotism  is  beginning  to  recede.  | 

Compared  with  the  solid  glory  of  an  achievement 
like  this,  |  wha£  are  battles,  I  and  wha£  the  pomp  of 
war,  |  but  the  poor  and  fleeting  pageants  of  a  theatre  ?  | 
What  were  the  selfish  and  petty  strides  of  Alexander,  | 
to  conquer  a  little  section  of  a  savage  world,  |  com- 
pared with  this  generous,  this  magnificent  advance  | 
towards  the  emancipation  of  the  entire  world  /  I 

And  this,  be  it  remembered,  !  has  been  the  fruit  of 
intellectual  exertion !!  the  triumph  of  mind/  |  Whaz 
a  proud  testimony  !  does  it  bear  to  the  character  of  our 
nation,  I  that  it  is  able  to  make  a  proper  estimate  1  of 
services  like  these !  That  while,  in  other  countries,  | 
the  senseless  mob  fall  down  in  stupid  admiration,  |  be- 
fore the  bloody  wheels  of  the  conqueror —  !  even  of 
the  conqueror  by  accident  —  |  in  this,  our  people  rise, 
with  one  accord,  1  to  pay  their  homage  to  intellect  and 
virtue ! 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  355 

WhaZ  a  cheering  pledge  does  it  give  I  of  the  stability 
of  our  institutions,  |  that  while  abroad,  |  the  yet  be- 
nighted multitude  I  are  prostrating  themselves  before 
the  idols,  |  which  their  own  hands  have  fashioned  into 
kings,  |  here,  in  this  land  of  the  free,  |  our  people  are 
everywhere  starting  up,  with  one  impulse,  I  to  follow 
with  their  acclamations  |  the  ascending  spirits  of  the 
greaJ  fathers  of  the  republic  /  | 

This  is  a  spectacle  I  of  which  we  may  be  permitted 
to  be  proud.  I  It  honours  our  country  no  less  than  the 
illustrious  dead.  I  And  could  these  greaj  patriots 
spea/c  to  us  from  the  tomb,  I  they  would  tell  us  that 
they  have  more  pleasure  in  the  testimony,  |  which 
these  honours  bear  to  the  character  of  their  country,  | 
than  in  that,  which  they  bear  to  their  individual  ser- 
vices. | 

They  now  see  as  they  were  seen,  while  in  the  body,  | 
and  know  the  nature  of  the  feeling  from  which  these 
honours  flow.  |  It  is  love  for  love.  |  It  is  the  grati- 
tude of  an  enlightened  nation  |  to  the  nobles*  order  of 
benefactors.  I  It  is  the  only  glory  worth  the  aspira- 
tion of  a  generous  spirit.  |  Who  would  not  prefer  this 
living  tomb  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  I  to  the 
proudest  mausoleum  that  the  genius  of  sculpture  could 
erect / 1 

Jefferson  and  Adams  were  greaZ  men  by  nature.  | 
No£  great  and  eccentric  minds,  |  'shot  madly  from 
their  spheres/  |  to  affright  the  world  and  scatter  pesti- 
lence in  their  course,  I  bu£  minds  whose  strong  and 
steady  lights,  |  restrained  within  their  proper  orbits  | 
by  the  happy  poise  of  their  characters,  I  came  to  cheer 
and  gladden  a  world  |  that  had  been  buried  for  ages  in 
political  night.  | 

They  were  heaven-called  avengers  of  degraded  man.  { 
They  came  to  lift  him  to  the  station  for  which  God  had 
formed  him,  |  and  to  put  to  flight  those  idiot  supersti- 
tions, |  with  which  tyrants  had  contrived  to  inthral  his 
reason  and  his  liberty.  |  And  that  Being,  who  had 


356  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

sent  them  upon  this  mission,  |  had  fitted  them,  pre- 
eminently, for  his  glorious  \vork.  I  He  filled  their 
hearts  with  a  love  of  country  i  which  burned  strong 
within  them,  even  in  death.  |  He  gave  them  a  power 
of  understanding  |  which  no  sophistry  could  baffle,  j  no 
art  elude ;  I  and  a  moral  heroism  which  no  dangers 
could  appal.  I 

Careless  of  themselves,  I  reckless  of  all  personal  con- 
sequences, !  trampling  under  foot  that  petty  ambition 
of  office  and  honour,  I  which  constitutes  the  master- 
passion  of  little  minds,  I  they  bent  all  their  mighty 
powers  I  to  the  task  for  which  they  had  been  dele- 
gated —  |  the  freedom  of  their  beloved  country,  |  and 
the  restoration  of  fallen  man.  I  They  Mt  that  they 
were  apostles  of  human  liberty ;  !  and  well  did  they 
fulfil  their  high  commission.  I  They  rested  not  till 
they  had  accomplished  their  work  at  home,  I  and  given 
such  an  impulse  to  the  great  ocean  of  mind,  |  thai  they 
saw  the  waves  rolling  on  the  farthest  shore,  i  before 
they  were  called  to  their  reward.  I  And  then  left  the 
world,  hand  in  hand,  I  exulting,  as  they  rose,  in  the 
success  of  their  labours.  I 


AN    ADDRESS    TO    A    YOUNG    STUDENT. 

(KNOX.) 

Your  parents  have  watched  over  your  helpless  in- 
fancy, |  and  conducted  you,  with  many  a  pang,  |  to  an 
age  at  which  your  mind  is  capable  of  manly  improve- 
ment. 1  Their  solicitude  still  continues,  |  and  no  trou- 
ble nor  expense  is  spared,  |  in  giving  you  all  the  in- 
structions and  accomplishments  i  which  may  enable 
you  to  act  your  part  in  life,  |  as  a  man  of  polished 
sense  and  confirmed  virtue.  I 

You  have,  then,  |  already  contracted  a  great  deb*  o, 
gratitude  to  them.  |  You  can  pay  it  by  no  other 
method,  I  but  by  using  properly  !  the  advantages  which 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  357 

their  goodness  has  afforded  you.  |  If  your  own  en- 
deavours are  deficient,  I  it  is  in  vain  ihat  you  have 
tutors,  |  books,  i  and  all  the  external  apparatus  of  lite- 
rary pursuits.  |  You  must  love  learning,  |  if  you  would 
possess  it.  |  In  order  to  love  it,  \  you  must  feel  its 
delights ;  j  in  order  to  feel  its  delights,  |  you  mus*  apply 
to  it,  |  however  irksome  at  first,  j  closely,  constantly, 
and  for  a  considerable  time.  ] 

If  you  have  resolution  enough  to  do  this,  I  you  can 
not  but  love  learning ;  I  for  the  mind  always  loves  that  i 
to  which  it  has  been  so  long,  |  steadily,  I  and  voluntarily 
attached.  I  Habits  are  formed,  |  which  render  what 
was  at  first  disagreeable,  |  not  only  pleasant,  but  neces- 
sary. |  Pleasant  indeed,  |  are  all  the  paths  which  lead 
to  polite  and  elegant  literature.  I  Yours  then  is  surely 
a  lot  particularly  happy.  I  Your  education  is  of  such 
a  sort,  |  that  its  principal  scope  i  is  to  prepare  you  to 
receive  a  refined  pleasure  during  your  life,  i 

Elegance,  or  delicacy  of  taste,  I  is  one  of  the  first 
objects  of  classical  discipline ;  |  and  it  is  this  fine  qual- 
ity |  which  opens  a  new  world  to  the  scholar's  view.  | 
Elegance  of  taste  I  has  a  connexion  with  many  virtues,  I 
and  all  of  them  virtues  of  the  most  amiable  kind.  |  It 
tends  to  render  you  at  once  good  and  agreeable ;  |  you 
must  therefore  be  an  enemy  to  your  own  enjoyment,  | 
if  you  enter  on  the  discipline  )  which  leads  to  the  at- 
tainment of  a  classical  and  liberal  education,  I  with 
reluctance.  I  Value  duly  the  opportunities  you  enjoy,  | 
and  which  are  denied  to  thousands  of  your  fellow-crea- 
tures. | 

By  laying  in  a  store  of  useful  knowledge,  adorning 
your  mind  with  elegant  literature,  |  improving  and 
establishing  your  conduct  by  virtuous  principles,  |  you 
cannoZ  fail  of  being  a  comfort  to  those  friends  who 
have  supported  you,  !  of  being  happy  within  yourself,  | 
and  of  being  well  received  by  mankind,  j  Honour 
and  success  in  life  will  probably  attend  you.  |  Under 
all  circumstances  |  vou  will  have  an  eternal  source  of 


S58  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

consolation  and  entertainment,  |  of  which  no  sublunary 
vicissitude  can  deprive  you.  I 

Time  will  show  how  much  wiser  hds  been  your 
choice  I  than  tha£  of  your  idle  companions,  I  who  would 
gladly  have  drawn  you  into  their  association,  |  or 
rather  into  their  conspiracy,  |  as  it  has  been  called,  | 
against  good  manners,  |  and  againsZ  all  that  is  honour- 
able and  useful.  I  While  you  appear  in  society  |  as  a 
respectable  and  valuable  member  of  \t,  \  they  will,  per- 
haps, |  have  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  vanity,  I  pride,  I 
and  extravagance,  I  and  false  pleasure,  |  their  health 
and  their  sense,  |  their  fortune  and  their  characters. ! 


A.CCOUNT    CURRENT. 

(ANONYMOUS.) 

Woman,  / 

Oh,  the  woe  that  woman  brings !  I 
Source  of  sorrow,  grief  and  pain !  1 

All  our  evils  have  their  springs,  | 
In  the  first  of  female  train.  | 

Eve  by  eating  led  poor  Adam  \ 
Out  of  Eden,  and  astray ;  | 

Look  for  sorrow  still  where  Madam,  | 
Pert  and  proud,  directs  the  way.  I 

Courtship  is  a  slavish  pleasure,  I 
Soothing  a  coquettish  train ;  I 

Wedded  —  what  the  mighty  treasure? 
Doom'd  to  drag  a  golden  chain.  | 

Noisy  clac&  and  constant  brawling, ! 

Discord  and  domestic  strife ;  | 
Empty  cupboard,  |  children  bawling,  j 

Scolding  woman  made  a  wife.  | 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION.  359 

Gaudy  dress  and  haughty  carriage,  | 
Love's  fond  balance  fled  and  gone ;  | 

These,  the  bitter  fruits  of  marriage  !  ; 
He  that 's  wise  will  live  alone !  I 

Contra,  Or. 
Oh !  \\hat  joys  from  woman  spring,  I 

Source  of  bliss  and  purest  peace,  I 
Eden  could  no*  comfort  bring,  I 

Till  fair  woman  show'd  her  face.  I 

When  she  came,  |  good  honest  Adam  I 
Clasp'd  the  gift  with  open  arms,  I 

He  left  Eden  for  his  madam,  j 

So  our  parent  prized  her  charms.  | 

Courtship  thrills  the  soul  with  pleasure ;  I 
Virtue's  blush  on  beauty's  cheeA; :  | 

Happy  prelude  to  a  treasure  I 

Kings  have  left  their  crowns  to  see&  /  | 

Lovely  looks  and  constant  courting,  I 

Sweet'ning  all  the  toils  of  life ;  I 
Cheerful  children,  harmless  sporting.  I 

Lovely  woman  made  a  wife ! ) 

Modest  dress  and  gentle  carriage,  | 

Love  triumphant  on  his  throne ;  | 
These  the  blissful  fruits  of  marriage  —  ] 

None  but  fools  would  live  alone.  1 


SCHEMES  OF  LIFE  OFTEN  ILLUSORY. 

(DR.  JOHNSON.) 

Omar,  the  son  of  Hassan,  1  had  passed  seventy-five 
years  in  honour  and  prosperity.  I  The  favour  of  three 
successive  califsa  |  had  filled  his  house  with  gold  and 

•Ki'llf,  a  title  assumed  by  the  successors  of  Mahomet  among  the 
Saracens 


360  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION. 

silver ;  |  and  whenever  he  appeared,  1  the  benedictions 
of  the  people  proclaimed  his  passage.  | 

Terrestrial  happiness  is  of  short  continuance.  | 
The  brightness  of  the  flame  is  wasting  its  fuel ;  |  the 
fragrant  flower  is  passing  away  in  its  own  odours.  ' 
The  vigour  of  Omar  began  to  fail ;  |  the  curls  of  beauty 
fell  from  his  head  ;  |  strength  departed  from  his  hands  ;' ! 
and  agility  from  his  feet.  \  He  gave  bac/c  to  the  calif 
the  keys  of  trusZ,  I  and  the  seals  of  secresy :  |  and 
sought  no  other  pleasure  for  the  remains  of  life,  than 
the  converse  of  the  wise,  |  and  the  gratitude  of  the 
good.  | 

The  powers  of  his  mind  were  yet  unimpaired.  | 
His  chamber  was  filled  by  visitants,  |  eager  to  catch 
the  dictates  of  experience,  I  and  officious  to  pay  the 
tribu/e  of  admiration.  I  Caled,  the  son  of  the  viceroy 
of  EgypZ,  |  entered  every  day  early,  and  retired  late.  \ 
He  was  beautiful  and  eloquent ;  |  Omar  admired  his 
wif,  |  and  loved  fas  docility.  |  "  Tell  me,"  said  Caled, 
"  thou  to  whose  voice  nations  have  listened,  I  and  whose 
wisdom  is  known  to  the  extremities  of  Asia,  |  tell  me 
how  I  may  resemble  Omar  the  prudent  |  The  arts  by 
which  thou  hast  gained  power  and  preserved  it,  \  are 
to  thee  no  longer  necessary  or  useful ;  |  impart  to  me 
the  secret  of  thy  conduct,  |  and  teach  me  the  plan  | 
upon  which  thy  wisdom  has  built  thy  fortune."  | 

"  Young  man,"  said  Omar,  |  *'  it  is  of  little  use  to 
form  plans  of  life.  |  When  I  took  my  firs*  survey 
of  the  world,  |  in  my  twentieth  year,  |  having  consider- 
ed the  various  conditions  of  mankind,  |  in  the  hour  of 
solitude  I  said  thus  to  myself,  |  leaning  against  a  cedar, 
which  spread  its  branches  over  my  head,  I  "  Seventy 
years  are  allowed  to  man ;  1 1  have  yet  fifty  remain 
ing.  | 

"  Ten  years  I  will  alloZ  to  the  attainment  of 
knowledge,  I  and  ten  I  will  pass  in  foreign  countries ;  | 
I  shall  be  learned,  |  and  therefore  shall  be  honoured  ;  j 
every  city  will  shou*  at  my  arrival,  |  and  every  stu- 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  301 

dent  will  solicit  my  friendship.  |  Twenty  years  thus 
passed,  |  will  store  my  mind  with  images,  I  which  1 
shall  be  busy,  through  the  rest  of  my  life,  I  in  combin- 
ing and  comparing.  |  I  shall  revel  in  inexhaustible 
accumulations  of  intellectual  riches ;  I  I  shall  find  new 
pleasures  for  every  moment ;  |  and  shall  never  more  be 
weary  of  myself.  | 

"  I  will  no*,  however,  |  deviate  too  far  from  the 
beaten  tracA;  of  life ;  I  bu*  will  try  wha*  can  be  found 
in  female  delicacy.  |  I  will  marry  a  wife  beautiful  as 
the  Houries,a  |  and  wise  as  Zobeide  :b  |  with  her  I  will 
live  twenty  years  within  the  suburbs  of  Bagdad,  |  in 
every  pleasure  tha*  wealth  can  purchase,  and  fancy 
can  invent,  i 

"  I  will  then  retire  to  a  rural  dwelling,  I  pass  my 
days  in  obscurity  and  contemplation,  |  and  lie  silently 
down  on  the  bed  of  death.  I  Through  my  life  it  shall 
be  my  settled  resolution,  |  that  I  will  never  depend 
upon  the  smile  of  princes  ;  |  tha*  I  will  never  stand  ex- 
posed to  the  artifices  of  courts ;  i  I  will  never  pan*  for 
public  honours,  |  nor  disturb  my  quie*  with  the  affairs 
of  state."  |  Such  was  my  scheme  of  life,  which  I 
impressed  indelibly  upon  my  memory.  I 

"  The  firs*  par*  of  my  ensuing  time  |  was  to  be 
spen*  in  search  of  knowledge,  I  and  I  know  no*  how  I 
was  diverted  from  my  design.  |  I  had  no  visible  im- 
pediments withou*.  I  nor  any  ungovernable  passions 
within.  |  I  regarded  knowledge  as  the  highes*  hon- 
our, |  and  the  mos*  engaging  pleasure ;  I  ye*  day  stole 
upon  day,  |  and  month  glided  after  month,  i  till  I  found 
tha*  seven  years  of  the  firs*  ten  had  vanished,  |  and 
lef*  nothing  behind  them.  | 

"  I  now  pos*poned  my  purpose  of  travelling ;  !  for 
why  should  I  go  abroad,  |  while  so  much  remained  to 
be  learned  at  home  ?  |  I  immured  myself  for  four 

*  H6're£,  the  girls  of  Mahomet's  Paradise.  b  Z6-bl'de,  wife  of 
the  Calif,  a  fictitious  character.  (See  Arabian  Nights  Entertain- 
ments.) 

31 


56S  PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION. 

pars,  j  and  studied  the  laws  of  the  empire.  '  The 
fame  of  my  skill  reached  the  judges  ;  I  I  was  fount/ 
able  to  speaA;  upon  doubtful  questions ;  |  and  was  com- 
manded to  stand  at  the  footstool  of  the  calif.  |  I  was 
neard  with  attention;!  I  was  consulted  with  confi- 
dence ;  |  and  the  love  of  praise  fastened  on  my  heart.  | 

"  I  still  wished  to  see  distant  countries ;  listened 
with  rapture  to  the  relations  of  travellers ;  |  and  re- 
solved some  time  to  as/c  my  dismission,  |  tha£  I  mighz 
feas*  my  soul  with  novelty :  |  but  my  presence  was 
always  necessary ;  |  and  the  stream  of  business  hurrieiy 
me  along.  |  Sometimes  I  was  afraid  lest  I  should  bi 
charged  with  ingratitude :  I  but  I  still  proposed  tt 
travel,  |  and  therefore  would  not  confine  myself  by 
marriage.  | 

"  In  my  fiftieth  year,  1 1  began  to  suspect  that  the 
time  of  travelling  was  pas* ;  j  and  thought  it  best  to 
lay  hold  on  the  felicity  yet  in  my  power,  I  and  indulge 
myself  in  domestic  pleasures.  I  Rut  at  fifty  |  no  man 
easily  finds  a  woman  |  beautiful  as  the  Houries,  and 
wise  as  Zobeide.  |  I  inquired  and  rejected,  |  consult- 
ed and  deliberated,  |  till  the  sixty-second  year  made 
me  ashamed  of  wishing  to  marry.  I  I  had  now  no- 
thing left  but  retirement  /  |  and  for  retirement  I  never 
found  a  time,  i  till  disease  forced  me  from  public  em- 
ployment | 

"  Such  was  my  scheme,  I  and  such  has  been  its  con- 
sequence. |  With  an  insatiable  thirst  for  knowledge,  I 
I  trifled  away  the  years  of  improvement ;  I  with  a  rest- 
less desire  of  seeing  different  countries,  |  I  have  always 
resided  in  the  same  city ;  I  with  the  highest  expectation 
of  connubial  felicity,  |  I  have  lived  unmarried;  |  and 
with  unalterable  resolutions  of  contemplative  retire- 
ment, I  I  am  going  to  die  within  the  walls  of  Bag- 
daZ."  I 


PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.  363 


EXTRACT    FROM    A    SUPPOSED    SPEECH    OF   JOHN    ADAMS   IN 
SUPPORT    OF    AMERICAN    INDEPENDENCE. 

(DANIEL  WEBSTER.) 

Smk  or  swim,  |  live  or  die,  I  survive  or  perish,  1 1  give 
my  hand,  and  my  hear/,  to  this  vote.  |  It  is  true,  in- 
deed, |  thai  in  the  beginning,  |  we  aimed  not  at  Inde- 
pendence. |  Bui  there's  a  Divinity  which  shapes  our 
ends.  |  The  injustice  of  England  has  driven  us  to 
arms ;  I  and  blinded  to  for  own  interest  for  our  good,  | 
she  has  obstinately  persisted,  I  till  Independence  is  now 
\vithin  our  grasp.  |  We  have  but  to  reach  forth  to  ii,| 
and  it  is  ours,  j  Why  then  should  we  defer  the  Decla- 
ration 1  |  Is  any  man  so  weak  |  as  now  to  hope  for  a 
reconciliation  with  England?  I  Do  we  mean  to  sub- 
mit to  the  measures  of  parliament,  I  Boston  port-bill 
and  all  ?  I  I  know  we  do  noi  mean  to  submit,  j  We 
never  shall  submit  | 

The  war,  then,  must  go  on.  |  We  must  fight  it 
through.  |  And  if  the  war  must  go  on,  |  why  put  off 
longer  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ?  1  That  mea- 
sure will  strengthen  us.  I  It  will  give  us  character 
abroad,  i  The  nations  will  then  treat  with  us,  |  which 
they  never  can  do  i  while  we  acknowledge  ourselves 
subjects,  in  arms  against  our  sovereign.  I  Nay,  I  main- 
tain thai  England  forself,  I  will  sooner  treai  for  peace 
with  us|on  the  footing  of  Independence,  I  than  consent, 
by  repealing  her  acis,  i  to  acknowledge  thai  for  whole 
conduci  towards  us  |  has  been  a  course  of  injustice  and 
oppression.  I 

Sir,  | the  Declaration  will  inspire  the  people  with  in- 
creased courage.  |  Instead  of  a  long  and  bloody  war 
for  restoration  of  privileges,  I  for  redress  of  grievances,  | 
for  chartered  immunities,  I  held  under  a  British  king,  | 
set  before  them  the  glorious  object  of  entire  Indepen- 
dence, I  and  it  will  breathe  into  them  anew  the  breath 
of  life.  I  Read  this  Declaration  at  the  head  of  the 


364  PRACTICAL   ELOCUTION.1 

army :  J  every  sword  will  be  drawn  from  its  scabbard,  | 
and  the  solemn  vow  uttered,  to  maintain  it,  |  or  to 
perish  on  the  bed  of  honour.  |  Publish  \t  from  the  pul- 
pit ;  I  religion  will  approve  it,  \  and  the  love  of  religious 
liberty  will  cling  round  it,  \  resolved  to  stand  with  it,\ 
or  fall  with  it.  \  Send  it  to  the  public  halls ;  |  proclaim 
it  there ;  I  let  them  hear  i£,|who  heard  the  first  roar  of 
the  enemy's  cannon ;  I  let  them  see  it, \ who  saw  their 
brothers  and  their  sons  |  fall  on  the  field  of  Bunker 
Hill,  |  and  in  the  streets  of  Lexington  and  Concord,  | 
and  the  very  walls  will  cry  out  in  its  support.  | 

Sir,  before  God,|  I  believe  the  hour  is  come.  I  My 
judgment  approves  this  measure,  |  and  my  whole  heart 
is  in  it.  |  All  tha£  I  have,  I  and  all  thaZ  I  am,  |  and  all 
that  I  hope,  in  this  life,  1 1  am  now  ready  here  to  stake 
upon  it ;  \  and  I  leave  off  as  I  began,  |  tha£  live  or  die,  | 
survive  or  perish,  |  I  am  for  the  Declaration.  I  It  is 
my  living  sentiment,  |  and.  by  the  blessing  of  God  |  it 
shall  be  my  dying  sentiment ;  |  Independence  now ;  \ 
and  INDEPENDENCE  FOR  EVER.  | 


KNOWLEDGE. 
(DE   WITT   CLINTON.) 

Pleasure  is  a  shadow :  1  wealth  is  vanity :  |  and  power 
is  a  pageant :  |  but  knowledge  is  ecstatic  in  enjoy- 
ment—  |  perennial  in  fame,  I  unlimited  in  space,  I  antf 
infinite  in  duration.  I  In  the  performance  of  its  sacred 
offices,  |  it  fears  no  danger —  I  spares  no  expense —  | 
omits  no  exertion.  I  It  scales  the  mountain  —  I  looks 
into  the  volcano —  |  dives  into  the  ocean  —  |  perforates 
the  earth  —  I  wings  its  flight  into  the  skies  —  I  encir- 
cles the  glo&e — |  explores  sea,and  land — I  contem- 
plates the  distant —  1  examines  the  minute —  |  compre- 
hends the  great  —  |  ascends  to  the  sublime.  —  I  No 
place  too  remote  for  its  grasp —  |  no  heavens  too  ex- 
alted for  its  touch,  j 

THE     END. 


APPENDIX. 


OPERATIONS  FOR  THE  CURE  OF  STAMMERING. 

SINCE  the  commencement  of  the  present  year,  (1841,)  a  variety 
of  operations  have  been  performed  on  the  tongue,  for  the  radical 
cure  of  Stammering.  This  method  of  treating  the  disease  is  due 
to  the  genius  of  Professor  Dieffenbach,*  of  Berlin,  author  of  the 
operation  for  the  cure  of  Strabismus. 

From  the  American  Journal  of  the  Medical  Sciences,  July,  1841. 

The  greatest  novelties  in  Surgery,  which  the  Foreign  Journals 
for  the  last  three  months  present  us,  are  the  operations  for  the  cure 
of  Stammering. 

Operation  of  Dieffenbach.  —  "  The  idea  lately  suggested  itself 
to  me,"  says  the  celebrated  Berlin  Professor,  "  that  an  incision  car- 
ried completely  through  the  root  of  the  tongue,  might  possibly  be 
useful,"  in  relieving  Stuttering  which  had  resisted  other  means  of 
cure,  "by  producing  an  alteration  in  the  condition  of  the  nervous 
influences,  allaying  spasm  of  the  chordee  vocales,  &c."  ;  and,  on 
this  slender  possibility,  based  on  a  most  vague  notion  (it  is  not 
worthy  of  being  termed  a  theory),  he  proceeded  at  once  boldly  to 
divide  completely  the  root  of  the  tongue. 

Three  modes  of  operating  are  described  by  Dieffenbach  :  "  1st. 
The  transverse  horizontal  division  of  the  root  of  the  tongue.  2d. 
The  subcutaneous  transverse  division.  3d.  The  horizontal  division, 
with  excision  of  a  wedge-shaped  portion." 

The  inventor  of  this  operation  thus  characterizes  it:  "It  can 
never  be  performed  by  one  who  has  not  the  temperament  of  an 
operator;  the  haemorrhage  must  hold  all  others  at  a  respectable 
distance.  The  extent  and  importance  of  the  operation,  the  possi- 
ble danger  to  life,  or  loss  of  the  tongue  either  through  want  of  skill 
in  the  assistants,  who  may  tear  -it  off  when  so  nearly  separated,  or 
through  mortification  or  ulceration  of  its  connecting  isthmus. 
These  are  contingencies  rationally  to  be  feared,  and  which  must  be 
carefully  weighed  beforehand."  We  commend  this  to  the  con- 
sideration not  only  of  the  Surgeon,  but  most  earnestly  also  to  the 
unfortunate  subjects  of  the  operation. 

It  is  said  to  have  been  fatal  in  one  of  Dieffenbach's  cases,  that  of 


*  Pronounced  D 
31  *  CD 


APPENDIX. 

a  young  man  who  was  dismissed  seemingly  cured.  Owing  to  the 
irritation  caused  by  the  cicatrix,  this  patient  commenced  picking 
his  tongue;  haemorrhage  came  on,  which  proved -so  alarming  that 
Dieffenbach  was  sent  for,  but  so  much  blood  had  been  lost  that  the 
man  sank. 

Notwithstanding  the  imminently  dangerous  nature  of  this  opera- 
tion, several  of  the  most  distinguished  Surgeons  of  Paris  havo 
hastened  to  execute  it,  and  seem  now  to  be  contending  who  shall 
perform  it  most  frequently,  and  boast  most  loudly  of  their  success. 

From  Dr.  Post's  Observations  on  the  New  Operation  for  the  Cure 
of  Stammering.     (New-York.) 

The  operation  has  been  repeated  a  considerable  number  of  timea 
in  Paris,  by  Amussat,  Baudens,  Velpeau,  &c.,  &c.,  by  whom  it  has 
been  essentially  modified,  and  rendered  easier  to  the  Surgeon,  and 
less  formidable  to  the  patient.  Amussat  pursues  the  following 
mode  of  operating: 

1st.  He  separates  with  a  bistoury,  the  franum  lingua  from  its 
attachment  to  the  lower  jaw,  and  divides  the  fibre-cellular  mem- 
brane beneath  it.  In  a  few  cases,  he  has  found  this  part  of  the 
operation  to  be  of  itself  sufficient  to  restore  freedom  of  speech. 

2d.  He  divides  the  genio-hyo-glossi  muscles  at  their  origin  from 
the  lower  jaw.  The  wound  generally  heals  in  about  eight  days. 

Amussat  has  had  some  cases  followed  by  troublesome  hemor- 
rhage, which  he  has  generally  arrested  by  the  free  use  of  ice ;  some- 
times by  introducing  compresses  of  lint,  and  making  pressure  on 
them  with  two  fingers  of  each  hand  introduced  into  the  mouth, 
while  the  thumbs  are  applied  below  the  chin.  In  one  case  only  it 
was  found  necessary  to  make  pressure  by  means  of  a  hard  body 
applied  over  the  lint.  If  these  means  should  fail,  he  recommends 
the  use  of  styptics  or  of  the  actual  cautery. 

Baudens  operates  in  the  following  manner.  An  assistant  stands 
behind  the  Stammerer,  and  holds  his  head  slightly  thrown  back, 
with  his  mouth  widely  opened,  and  the  two  little  fingers  of  the 
assistant  in  the  angles  of  the  mouth,  drawing  back  the  lips.  The 
Surgeon  with  his  left  hand  holds  a  sharp  hook,  which  he  inserts 
into  the  frsenum  lingua?,  near  the  insertion  of  the  genio-hyo-glossi, 
which  he  thus  puts  on  the  stretch.  He  then  plunges  the  points  of 
a  sharp  pair  of  scissors  on  each  side  of  the  origin  of  the  muscles, 
to  the  depth  of  about  an  inch,  and  by  closing  the  scissors  divides 
the  muscles.  If  any  fibres  remain  undivided,  he  cuts  them  with  a 
probe-pointed  bistoury. 

Velpeau  divides  the  genio-hyo-glossi,  sometimes  with  a  narrow 
bistoury,  through  a  puncture  of  the  mucous  membrane,  and  some- 
times with  scissors,  dividing  the  mucous  membrane  more  exten- 
sively 


APPENDIX.  Ill 

From  the  American  Journal  of  the  Medical  Sciences.  October. 
1841. 

Operations  for  Stammering.  —  A  reviewer  in  the  British  and 
Foreign  Medical  Review,  July,  1841,  thus  speaks  of  them.  "The 
sanguinary  operations  which  have  been  recently  devised  and  exe- 
cuted, with  the  view  of  curing  Stammering,  are  one  of  the  great- 
est outrages  upon  modern  Surgery.  Although  some  of  them  had 
their  origin  in  legitimate  motives,  most,  we  fear,  serve  but  to  show 
what  ruthless  expedients  will  be  occasionally  resorted  to  for  the 
purpose  of  acquiring  professional  fame,  however  short-lived,  and  to 
what  extent  the  ignorant  and  credulous  will  become  a  prey  to  craft 
and  subtlety.  If  our  indignation  was  awakened  at  the  barbarous 
cruelties  practised  upon  dumb  animals  for  the  sake  of  elucidating 
the  truths  of  Physiology,  how  much  more  ought  it  to  be  when  we 
consider  the  multitude  of  our  fellow-beings  who  have  suffered 
themselves  to  be  maimed  and  mutilated  at  the  instigation  of  indi- 
viduals more  remarkable  for  their  reckless  use  of  the  knife  than 
for  the  soundness  of  their  Medical  Science !" 

From  a  very  intelligent  young  German  Physician,  recently  on  a 
visit  to  this  country,  we  learn  that  Dieffenbach  has  abandoned  his 
operation,  on  the  ground  that  the  danger  to  the  life  of  the  patient 
exceeds  the  chance  of  a  cure.  And  we  also  learn  that  many  of 
the  cases  announced  as  cures,  were  merely  temporarily  relieved. 

REMARKS. 

Nothing  can  be  more  unphilosophical  and  absurd  than  theso 
operations  for  the  radical  cure  of  Stammering.  Will  removing 
"wedge-shaped"  portions  of  the  tongue,  passing  needles  through 
its  substance,  or  dividing  the  genio-hyo-glossi  muscles,  inspire  a 
Stammerer  with  confidence,  or  give  him  a  knowledge  of  Elocu- 
tion 1  If  Stammering  depended  on  the  permanent  contraction  of  a 
muscle,  as  in  Strabismus,  it  would  be  rational  to  conclude  that  it 
might  be  relieved  by  a  surgical  operation;  but  as  the  exciting 
cause,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  exists  in  the  mind,  and  not  in  the 
tongue,  an  operation  on  the  latter  can  be  of  no  permanent  advan- 
tage. 


QUESTIONS 

TO    BE    ANSWERED    BY    THE    PUPIL. 

[NOTE.  —  These  Questions  were  omitted  in  the  proper  place  — 
they  should  have  followed  those  on  page  166.] 

Page  134.  What  letters  are  employed  for  noting  the  disposition 
of  the  fingers  1  What  letters  are  used  for  noting  the  manner  of 
presenting  the  palm  ?  What  letters  are  used  for  noting  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  arms'?  What  letters  are  used  for  noting  the  posture 
of  the  arms  in  the  transverse  direction!  What  letters  are  used 
for  noting  the  force  of  motion  of  the  hands  and  arms  ?  What  let- 
ters are  used  for  noting  the  direction  of  motion  1 

Page  135.  What  letters  are  used  for  noting  the  manner  of 
motion?  WThat  letters  are  used  for  noting  the  posture  of  the  head 
and  direction  of  the  eyes?  What  letters  and  numerals  are  used 
for  noting  the  positions  of  the  feet?  What  letters  are  used  for 
noting  the  degree  of  extension  of  the  feet  ?  What  letters  are  used 
for  noting  the  steps  ? 

Page  136.  What  letters  are  used  to  note  parts  on  which  the  hand 
may  be  placed  ?  What  letters  are  used  to  note  the  manner  of  com- 
bining the  fingers  of  both  hands "?  What  letters  are  used  for  noting 
the  combinations  of  both  arms  ?  What  does  a  capital  B,  preceding 
and  joined  to  a  set  of  small  letters,  signify  ?  Name  some  of  the 
letters  used  in  noting  significant  gestures. 

Page  137.  Into  how  many  classes  are  the  notation  letters  divi- 
ded ?  What  is  meant  by  a  set  of  letters?  To  what  does  each 
letter  in  a  set,  respectively  relate?  Illustrate  this  by  an  example. 
Do  the  letters  and  sets  of  letters  relate  to  both  arms  indifferently? 
How  are  they  distinguished  ?  When  there  is  a  single  set  of  let- 
ters, how  is  it  known  whether  it  belongs  to  the  right  hand  and  arm, 
or  to  the  left  ? 

Page  138.  How  is  a  set  of  letters,  designed  for  both  arms,  dis- 
tinguished ?  How  is  a  change  of  gesture  noted  ?  How  is  alter- 
nate gesture  expressed  ?  By  what  kind  of  letters  are  the  postures 
of  the  head  and  the  direction  of  the  eyes  indicated,  and  where  are 
they  placed  ?  Where  are  the  letters  placed,  which  mark  the  posi- 
tions of  the  feet  ? 

Page  156.  In  notating  an  oration,  is  it  necessary  to  mark  every 
gesture  ? 

Page  157.  What  is  necessary  to  be  attended  to  in  the  recitation 
of  descriptions  of  any  kind  ?  Why  should  not  the  same  gesture 
be  often  repeated?  What  general  rule  should  be  observed  in  ora- 
torical action  ?  What  is  the  best  method  for  acquiring  a  finished 
rhetorical  delivery  ? 

(4) 


GESTURE. 


CHAPTER  XIII.* 

COMPLEX    SIGNIFICANT    GESTURES. 

Complex  Significant  Gestures  are  employed  chiefly  in 
dramatic  representation.  They  are  combinations  of 
simple  significant  gestures,  variously  associated  accord- 
ing to  the  mingled  passions  which  they  represent.  The 
boldest  and  most  magnificent  of  them  are  termed  atti- 
tudes. The  following  are  examples  of  complex  signifi- 
cant gestures : 

Reproach  puts  on  a  stern  aspect :  the  brow  is  con- 
tracted, the  lip  is  turned  up  with  scorn,  and  the  whole 
body  is  expressive  of 
aversion.  Fig.  166 
represents  Queen  Ka- 
tharine, in  the  trial 
scene,  in  the  play  of 
Henry  VIII.  reproach- 
ing Wolsey  for  the  in- 
juries which  had  been 
neaped  upon  her. 

Apprehension  is  the 
prospect  of  future  evil 
accompanied  with  un- 
easiness of  mind.  Fig. 
167  is  a  good  example. 
It  represents  Hamlet 
in  the  act  of  exclaiming,  "Ay,  there's  the  rub."  [See 
Hamlet's  Soliloquy,  p.  249.] 

Terror  excites  the  person  who  suffers  under  it,  to 
avoid  the  dreaded  object,  or  to  escape  from  it.  If  it  be 
some  dangerous  reptile  on  the  ground,  and  very  neai, 
the  expression  is  represented  by  starting  back  and  look  - 

*  This  Chapter  should  have  followed  p.  130. 
A2 


107 


ELOCUTION. 

ing  downwards.  If  the  danger  threaten  from  a  dis- 
tance, the  terror  arising  is  expressed  by  looking  for- 
wards,  and  not  starting  back,  but  merely  in  the  retired 
position.  But  if  the  dread  of  impending  death  from 
the  hand  of  an  enemy  awaken  this  passion,  the  coward 
flies.  Of  this  there  is  a  fine  example  in  the  battles  of 

Alexander,  by 
LeBrun.  Fig. 
168represents 
terror  as  de- 
scribed byEn- 
gel.  It  is  that 
of  a  man  a- 
larmed  by 
lightning  and 
thunder.  He 
shuts  his  eyes, 
covers  them 
with  one  hand 

168  169  and     extends 

the  other  behind  him,  as  if  to  ward  off  the  dreaded  stroke. 
Aversion,  as  already  observed,  is  expressed  by  two 
gestures.     (See  p.  122.) 

Horror,  which  is  aversion  or  astonishment  mingled 
with  terror,  is  seldom  capable  of  retreating,  but  remains 
in  one  attitude,  with  the  eyes  riveted  on  the  object,  the 
arms,  with  the  hands  vertical,  held  forward  to  guard 
the  person,  and  the  whole  frame  trembling.  (Fig.  169.) 
Listening  in  order  to  obtain  the  surest  and  most  va- 
rious information,  first  casts  the  eye  quickly  in  the  ap- 
parent direction  of  the  sounds ;  if  nothing  is  seen,  the 
ear  is  turned  towards  the  point  of  expectation,  the  eye 
is  bent  on  vacancy,  and  the  arm  is  extended,  with  the 
hand  vertical ;  but  all  this  passes  in  a  moment.  If  the 
sounds  proceed  from  different  points  at  the  same  time, 
both  hands  are  held  up,  and  the  face  and  eyes  alternately 
change  from  one  side  to  the  other  with  a  rapidity  go- 
verned by  the  nature  of  the  sound ;  if  it  be  alarming,  with 


ELOCUTION. 


trepidation ;  if  pleasing,  with  gentle  motion. 
The  figure  is  listening  fear. 


7 
(Fig.  99.) 


Admiration,  if  of  surrounding  natural  objects,  of  a 
pleasing  kind,  holds  both  hands  vertical,  and  across, 
and  then  moves  them  outwards  to  the  position  extended 
as  in  the  figure.  (Fig.  100.)  In  admiration  arising 
from  some  extraordinary  or  unexpected  circumstances, 
the  hands  are  thrown  up  supine  elevated,  together  with 
the  face  and  the  eyes. 

Veneration  crosses  both  hands  on  the  breast,  casts 

down  the  eyes  slow- 
ly, and  bows  the 
head.  (Fig.  101.) 

Deprecation  ad- 
vances in  the  ex- 
tended position  of 
the  feet,  approach- 
ing to  kneeling, 
clasps  the  hands 
forcibly  together 
throws  back  the 
head,  sinking  it  be- 

101  102  tween    the    shoul 

ders,  and  looks  earnestly  up  to  the  person  implored, 
(Fig.  102.) 


8 


GESTURE. 


In  appealing  to  heaven,  the  right  hand  is  laid  on  the 
breast,  then  the  left  is  projected  su- 
pine upwards;  the  eyes  are  first  di- 
rected forwards,  and  then  upwards. 
(Fig.  103.) 

In  the  appeal  to  conscience,  the 
right  hand  is  laid  on  the  breast,  the 
left  drops  unmoved,  the  eyes  are  fixed 
upon  the  person  addressed  (Fig.  80,  p. 
99) ;  sometimes  both  hands  press  the 
breast. 

Shame  in  the  extreme  sinks  on  the 
knee,  and  covers  the  eyes  with  both 
hands.  (Fig.  104.)  This  is  a  femi- 
nine expression  of  it. 

Mild  resignation  falls  on  the  knee, 
crosses  the  arms  on  the  breast,  and  looks  forwards  and 
upwards  towards  heaven.     (Fig.  105.) 


]05 


Resignation  mixed  with  desperation,  stands  erect  and 
unmoved,  the  head  thrown  back,  the  eyes  turned  up- 
ward, and  fixed,  the  arms  crossed.  A  fine  instance  is 
seen  in  Fig.  106,  from  an  attitude  of  Mrs.  Siddons. 

Grief  arising  from  sudden  and  afflicting  intelligence, 
covers  the  eyes  with  one  hand,  advances  forwards,  and 
throws  back  tne  other  hand.  (Fig.  107,  and  Fig.  8 1 ,  p.  99.) 


ELOCUTION 


9 


Attention  demanding  silence,  holds  the  finger  on  the 
lips,  and  leans  forwards,  sometimes  repressing  with  the 
left  hand.  (Fig.  82,  p.  99.) 


Distress,  when  extreme,  lays  the  palm  of  the  hand 
upon  the  forehead,  throws  back  the  head  and  body, 
and  retires  with  a  long  and  sudden  step.  (Fig.  83.  p.  99. 

Deliberation  on  ordinary  subjects,  holds  the  chin 
and  sets  the  arm  a-kimbo.  (Fig.  84,  p.  99.) 

Self-sufficiency  folds  the  arms,  and  sets  himself  on 
his  centre.  (Fig.  48,  p.  92.)  This  was  a  favourite 
posture  of  Bonaparte. 

Pride  throws  back  the  body,  and  holds  the  head  high. 

These  few  complex  significant  gestures  are  some  of 
the  most  obvious,  and  principally  such  as  occurred  in 
the  illustration  of  other  parts  of  this  system;  they 
serve,  however,  in  some  degree,  to  explain  the  nature 
of  these  gestures.  But  among  the  writers  who  have 
treated  particularly  of  significant  gestures,  none  have 
written  with  greater  ingenuity  than  Engel :  we  will 
borrow,  therefore,  an  example  or  two  from  him. 

Surprise  causes  the  body  and  lower  limbs  to  retire 

and  affection  stimulates  the  person  to  advance.     (Fig. 

108.)     The  figure  represents  Frederick  de  Reuss,  in  a 

German  play,  who  unexpectedly  sees  his  dear  friend. 

32 


10 


GESTURE. 


He  withdraws,  in  surprise,  his  body  and  lower  limbs, 
and,  in  the  ardour  of  friendship,  immediately  stretches 
forwards  his  head  and  his  arms. 

When  the  thoughts  flow  without 
difficulty  or  opposition,  the  move- 
ment of  the  limbs  is  free  and  direct. 
But  when  difficulties  occur,  or  ob- 
stacles are  discovered,  a  man  either 
arrests  his  action  entirely,  or  changes 
it  to  something  altogether  different. 
The  direction  of  his  eyes,  and  the, 
action  of  his  head,  are  also,  under 
similar  circumstances,  quite  altered. 
The  eyes,  instead  of  moving  freely 
from  object  to  object,  become  fixed, 
and  the  head  is  thrown  back,  if  be- 
fore hanging  down  on  the  breast.  As  an  example  of 
these  effects,  M.  Engel  refers  to  a  scene  in  a  play  of 
Lessing,  in  which  an  old  gentleman  is  very  much 
puzzled  how  to  ma- 
nage, in  a  situa- 
tion of  great  diffi- 
culty and  delicacy. 
In  the  commence- 
ment of  his  delibe- 
rations he  is  repre- 
sented as  in  Fig.  109, 
and  in  the  next  pe- 
riod of  them,  as  in 
Fig.  110. 

These  examples 
are    introduced   by 

M.  Engel   to   illus-         109  no 

trate  his  analogous  gestures,  but  they  may  also  be 
very  well  applied  to  illustrate  the  complex,  significant 
gestures,  which  are  the  present  subject  of  investigation. 
The  description  which  he  gives  of  melancholy,  con- 
trasted with  anxiety,  is,  throughout,  correct,  and  full 
of  nice  discrimination. 


ELOCUTION. 


11 


Melancholy  is  a  feeble  and  passive  affection ;  it  is 
attended  by  a  total  relaxation  of  the  muscles,  with  a 
mute  and  tranquil  resignation,  un- 
accompanied by  opposition  either 
to  the  cause  or  the  sensibility  of 
the  evil .  The  character,  externally, 
is  languor,  without  motion,  the 
head  hanging  at  the  "  side  next  the 
heart,"  the  eyes  turned  upon  its 
object,  or,  if  that  is  absent,  fixed 
upon  the  ground,  the  hands  hang- 
ing down  by  their  own  weight, 
without  effort,  and  joined  loosely 
together.  (Fig.  111.) 

Anxiety  is  of  a  different  charac- 
ter; it  is  restless  and  active,  and 
manifest  by  the  extension  of  the  muscles ;  the  eye  is 
filled  with  fire,  the  breathing  is  quick,  the  motion  is 
hurried,  the  head  is  thrown  back,  the  whole  body  is 
extended.  The  sufferer  is  like  a  sick 
man,  who  tosses  incessantly,  and  finds 
himself  uneasy  in  every  situation.  (Fig. 
112.) 

One  of  the  causes  of  M .  Engel's  ges- 
tures of  analogy  is,  as  he  observes,  the 
"  disposition  of  the  mind  to  refer  intellec 
tual  ideas  to  external  objects.  When 
king  Lear  recollects  the  barbarous  treat- 
ment of  his  daughters,  who,  in  the  midst 
of  a  stormy  night,  had  exposed  his  hoary 
head  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather ; 
and  when  he  immmediately  exclaims 

O  that  way  madness  lies ;  let  me  shun  that ; 
No  more  of  that, 

there  is  not,  in  reality,  any  external  object  from  which 
this  unhappy  prince  should  avert  his  eyes  with  horror 
and  yet  he  turns  his  head  away  to  the  side  opposite 
that  to  which  it  was  directed  before,  endeavouring,  as 


12  GESTURE 

it  were,  with  his  hand  reversed,  to  banish  that  cruel 

and  afflicting  recollection."  (Fig. 

113.) 

The  significant  gestures,  how- 
ever numerous  and  correct,  which 
a  great  actor  makes  in  the  repre- 
sentation of  an  entire  dramatic, 
character,  bear  no  proportion  to1 
the  number  of  those  gestures 
which  do  not  belong  to  this  class, 
and  which  are  no  less  necessary, 
though  they  are  not  so  splendid 
and  imposing.  The  painter  is 
struck  by  the  boldest  and  finest 
of  the  significant  gestures,  which  are  called  attitudes ; 
and  he  records  them :  they  are  the  proper  objects  of 
his  art ;  they  are  striking,  and  less  evanescent  than  the 
other  gestures  which  pass  unnoticed  by  him,  although 
they  make  up  by  far  the  greater  and  more  important 
part  of  the  gestures  requisite  for  illustrating  the  senti- 
ments. These  less  prominent  gestures  give  to  the  de- 
clamation its  precision  and  force.  A  slight  movement 
of  the  head,  a  look  of  the  eye,  a  turn  of  the  hand,  a  ju- 
dicious pause,  or  interruption  of  gesture,  or  a  change 
of  position  in  the  feet,  often  illuminates  the  meaning 
of  a  passage,  and  sends  it,  full  of  life  and  warmth,  into 
the  understanding.  And  the  perfection  of  gesture,  in 
a  tragedian,  will  be  found  to  consist  more  in  the  skilful 
management  of  the  less  showy  action,  than  in  the  exhi- 
bition of  the  finest  attitudes.  Attitudes  are  danger 
ous  to  hazard :  the  whole  powers  of  the  man  mu?t  be 
wrought  up  to  their  highest  energy,  or  they  become 
forced  and  frigid.  Excellent  players  have  been  seen, 
who  have  never  ventured  an  attitude ;  but  none,  deserv- 
ing the  name  of  excellence,  have  ever  appeared,  whose 
declamation  has  been  deficient  in  precision  or  propriety 
Where  all  the  solid  foundation  of  just  and  appropriate 
action  has  been  laid,  attitude,  when  regulated  with 


GESTURE.  13 

taste  and  discretion,  may  be  added  to  ornament  the  su- 
perstructure ;  but,  when  it  is  introduced  unseasonably, 
or  is  overcharged,  it  is  an  evidence  of  deficiency  of  un- 
derstanding, as  well  as  of  depravity  of  taste. 

ATTITUDES   OF  MRS.    SIDDONS. 


185  186 

U     '~          iz   >p xdx        thf 

Fig.  185.  This' arm  shall  vindicate  a  father's  cause.  G.  Dau'r.,  A.I,  S.  last. 

aR2 

S  iZip-pdx 

Fig.  186.    Wert  thou  the  son  of  Jupiter.  Imogen,  Act  2,  S.  3. 

a  R  2 


187 

U  B  cl.  eb 

Fig.  187.     A  widow  cries,  Be  husband  to  me,  heaven.    K.  John,  A.  3,  S.  2 

Rl 
D    Bel    ef  U        heq  bn~hdx 

Fig.  188.     Pity  and  forgiveness.  Venice  Preserved,  Act  5,  S.  I 

32*  ««>* 


TELI/S  ADDRESS  TO  THE  MOUNTAINS. 


vef-phx  shf-sdx 

Ye  crags  and  peaks,  I       I'm  with  you  once  again ; 

R2 


I  hold  to  you  the  hands 
you  first  beheld,  | 


Bvee 

to  show  they  still 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


Bveq 

ar«  rree.  |  Methinks  I  hear  a 

Rl 

spii  .t  in  your  echoes,  answer 
me,  |  and  bid  your  tenant 


Bshq 

welcome  to  his  home 

HI 


again  !  |    O  sacred  forms,  I 


R  i 


how  proud  vou  look ! 


192 
stf—sdx    ^  sky 

How  high  you  lift  your 

heads  into  the  sky !  I 
Mi 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


Bshx 

How  huge  you  are !  | 


Bveq 

How  mighty  !  I 

HI    ' 


B  shf  Z-pM 

and  how  free  !  |        Ye  are  the  things  that  tower; 

*2  -RI 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


shf—sdx  _ 

that  shine ;  |          whose  smile  makes  glad ; 


Rl 


200 
B  veq  B  vec 

frown  is  terrible ;  1          whose  forms,  robed, 

rLl 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


201 


Bveq 

or  unrobed,  do  all  the 
impress  wear 


vef-phz     t 

of  awe  divine,  j 


203      . 

fl-phx  shf—shx 

Ye  guards  of  liberty,  |      Pm  with  you  once  again ! ! 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


205 


Z-phz 

I  call  to  you  with  all  my 


207  208 

B  a*q  B  vec 

I  hold  my  hands  to  you,  |  to  show  they  still  are  | 

L  2 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 


free — j 


210 
Bsef 

I  rush  to  you,  I 

aR- 


Bz 


as  though  I  could 


212 
Bshf  R 

embrace  you, 

Ml 


VOCAL  GYMNASIUM. 

RULES,   CONDITIONS,   RECOM- 
MENDATIONS, &c. 


RULES,   ADOPTED    IN    1840. 

From  experience  in  teaching  without  Jixed  rules  for  the  regula* 
tion  of  the  conduct  of  the  different  classes,  the  Proprietor  of  the 
Institution  is  convinced  of  their  importance.  He  has,  therefore, 
drawn  up  the  following,  to  which  he  requires  each  member  to  sub' 
scribe  on  entering  the  school. 

1.  Each  member  of  the  Institution  must  be  punctual  in  atten- 
dance at  all  the  exercises :  he  must  not  leave  till  their  close. 

2.  Each  member  must  attend  every  exhibition  at  the  Vocal  Gym- 
nasium, and  at  every  other  place. 

3.  Each  member,  while  exercising1,  must  stand  or  sit  erect. 

Neither  postures,  motions,  nor  acts,  unfavourable  to  vocal  delivery,  are  allow- 
ed: such  as  rocking,  throwing  one's  self  back  in  the  chair,  or  resting  the  anna 
upon  the  back  of  it,  or  even  the  feet  upon  the  rounds. 

4.  When,  in  concert  exercises,  a  section  is  given  out,  it  must  be 
immediately  repeated  by  every  member  of  the  class,  in  the  proper 
pitch  and  time,  and  with  the  requisite  degree  of  force. 

5.  When  a  piece  is  given  out  with  gesticulation,  the  members 
of  the  class  must  rise  simultaneously,  immediately  after  the  first 
section  is  pronounced,  and  repeat  the  words  and  gesture. 

6.  Each  student  must  perform  all  the  exercises  with  unwearied  in- 
dustry :  in  a  manner  which  shall  indicate  that  he  is  resolved  on  a  cure. 

7.  As  walking  about  the  room,  changing  seats,  &c.,  greatly  in 
terrupt  the  process  of  instruction,  the  members  of  the  class  are  re- 
quired to  keep  in  their  places  during  the  exercises. 

This  rule,  of  course,  does  not  apply  to  those  exercises  which  require  the  class  to 
keep  time  by  marching. 

8.  No  one  is  allowed  to  have  any  thing  in  his  hands,  except  his 
book,  during  the  exercises. 

9.  All  colloquial  intercourse,  in  the  time  of  exercising,  is  strictly 
forbidden. 

10.  No  whistling,  loud  talking,  or  other  unnecessary  noise,  in 
entering,  or  in  leaving  the  room,  is  allowed. 

11.  As  any  remarks  calculated  to  discourage  the  Stammerer 
from  persevering  in  the  exercises,  greatly  retard,  if  not  entirely 
prevent  a  cure,  every  member  of  the  Institution  is  required  to  re- 
frain from  making  them. 

Pi  esuming  that  the  deportment  of  each  Student,  will,  on  every 
occasion,  be  that  of  a  gentleman ;  the  Proprietor  of  the  Institu- 
tion confidently  trusts  that  the  above  rules  will  not  be  violated. 

33  f5) 


DR.  COMSTOCK'S 

VOCAL  GYMNASIUM 

AND 

LYCEUM  FOR  ELOCUTION, 

DESIGNED  FOR  THE  PROMOTION  OP  HEALTH,  THE  CURE  OP  STAM- 
MERING, AND  IMPROVEMENT  IN  READING  AND  SPEAKING. 

This  Institution  is  open  from  the  first  of  October  till  the  last  of  March  ; 
April,  May,  June,  July,  August,  and  September  being  vacation  months. 
Students  in  Elocution  are  admitted  at  any  time  during  the  term ;  Stam. 
merers,  at  any  time  between  the  first  of  October  and  the  first  of  Feb. 
ruarv. 

In  this  Institution,  Elocution  is  treated  as  a  science,  as  well  as  an  art. 
The  various  movements  of  the  voice,  both  in  speech  and  song,  are  illus 
trated  by  original  diagrams  and  by  oral  instruction.  The  exercises  give 
the  pupil  complete  command  of  the  muscles  of  articulation,  extend  the 
compass  of  the  voice,  and  render  it  smooth,  powerful,  and  melodious. 
They  not  only  call  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  vocal  organs,  correct 
stammering,  lisping,  and  other  impediments  of  speech  ;  but  they  invigo- 
rate the  lungs,  and,  consequently,  fortify  them  against  the  invasion  of 
disease.  The  vocal  exercises  are  accompanied  by  gesticulation.  Hence 
to  a  certain  extent,  general  gymnastics  are  associated  with  those  of  the 
voice ;  and  awkwardness  of  manner  and  posture,  is  removed  by  the  sub- 
stitution  of  rhetorical  grace.  In  other  words,  all  the  voluntary  muscles 
of  the  trunk  and  limbs  are  so  trained  as  to  move  in  the  order  required 
by  the  will,  synchronously  and  harmoniously  with  those  of  the  voice. 

TICKETS  PER  COURSE. 

Cure  of  Stammering 10  weeks  instruction. ....  .$50 

Private  instruction  in  Elocution. . .  36  lessons 30 

Instruction  in  the  morning  class. .    10  weeks,  each  pupil 20 

Instruction  in  the  afternoon  class . .   10  weeks,  each  pupil   20 

Instruction  in  the  evening  class. . .   10  weeks,  each  pupil 10 

Instruction  in  seminaries 25  weeks,  2  hours  per  week.  50 

[CFThe  ticket,  in  each  case,  to  be  paid  for  in  advance.  Satisfactory 
references  will  be  given  in  the  principal  cities  throughout  the  Union. 

ANDREW  COM  STOCK,  M.  D, 
No.  100  Mulberry  Street,  Philadelphia, 
(6) 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 

To  the  Editor  of  the  Troy  Daily  Whig  : 

SIR — You  are  aware  that  a  gentleman  from  Philadelphia,  Dr.  Comstock, 
is  now  giving  lessons  in  Elocution ;  but  perhaps  you  arc  not  aware  of  the 
merits  of  his  system  or  the  extent  of  its  usefulness;  it  is  in  many  respects 
entirely  original,  in  others  founded  on  the  investigations  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished vocalists.  I  have  attended  a  few  lessons,  and  am  highly  grati- 
fied that  I  have  embraced  the  opportunity.  Some  of  the  gentlemen  who 
have  professed  to  teach  Elocution  in  our  city  have  given  some  satisfaction, 
but  none  have  been  able  to  handle  the  subject  as  he  takes  it  up ;  his  treat- 
ment of  it  is  simple,  natural,  philosophical ;  he  is  prepared  to  meet  any 
case  of  impediment  in  speaking,  reading,  or  singing.  If  a  pupil  can  speak 
or  read  at  all,  Dr.  Comstock  will  teach  him  to  do  it  well.  Musicians  also 
would  do  well  to  look  into  his  system :  they  will  find  in  it  exercises  to  give 
force  and  melody  to  the  voice  that  have  never  occurred  to  them.  And 
besides  the  improvement  in  singing,  and  that  most  valuabl0.  of  all  accom- 
plishments,^oo£?  reading,  there  is  another  to  be  derived  from  these  exer- 
cises, which  is  far  more  important  than  either — it  promotes  health.  The 
plan  is  so  constructed  as  to  call  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  vocal  organs — 
the  lungs  particularly  are  fortified  and  invigorated  by  practice  according 
to  his  system ;  and  in  this  view  of  the  subject  I  would  suggest  to  our  phy- 
sicians, who  in  general  evince  great  assiduity  and  skill  in  preventing  as 
well  as  removing  disease,  that  they  do  so  much  for  the  public  weal,  as  to 
call  on  Dr.  Comstock  that  they  may  know  the  advantages  of  the  vocal 
exercises. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Dr.  Comstock  will  remain  but  a  short  time 
with  us;  but  short  as  it  is,  those  who  wish  to  profit  by  his  instructions  will 
have  time  to  do  so.  Yours,  P. 

August  15,  1834. 


From  the  Philadelphia  Commercial  Intelligencer,  August  20,  1834. 

We  have  observed  with  pleasure  in  the  Troy  Whig  of  the  15th  instant, 
a  favourable  notice  of  that  excellent  Elocutionist  of  our  city,  Dr.  Comstock, 
He  is  giving  lessons  in  Elocution  at  Troy  with  much  success. 


F*om  the  Troy  Daily  Whig  of  August  30,  1834. 
DR.  COMSTOCK'S  LECTURES. 

MR.  EDITOR — Yesterday,  I  had  the  pleasure  to  hear  an  interesting  Lec- 
ture on  Elocution,  by  Andrew  Comstock,  M.  D.  from  the  city  of  Philadel. 
phm.  He  understands  the  elementary  sounds  of  the  English  Language 
well,  and  appears  to  have  entire  command  over  the  vocal  organs.  He  ex- 

(7) 


8  RECOMM  EN  DATIONS. 

plains  the  movements  of  the  voice  by  diagrams,  and  measures  the  rnria, 
iious  of  pitch  by  the  musical  scale.  He  has  with  him  two  books  on  prac- 
tical elocution,  of  which  he  is  the  author — the  Rhythmical  Reader,  wiiinh 
contains  pieces  adapted  to  the  taste  of  ladies,  and  Practical  Elocution, 
which  is  designed  for  gentlemen.  He  teaches  his  pupils  iron)  these  books 
how  to  read  in  a  graceful  manner.  If  an  individual  has  a  feeble  voice,  it 
can  be  strengthened ;  if  harsh,  softened,  by  pursuing  the  course  he  recom- 
mends. He  clearly  points  out  the  difference  between  boisterous  and  elo- 
quent speaking-;  and  he  shows  how  to  produce  a  great  effect  upon  a  public 
assembly,  with  very  little  effort. 

The  simplicity  and  power  of  the  organs  of  speech  furnish,  I  think,  su£ 
ficient  reason  for  the  exclamation: 

"  How  wonderful  is  man . 
How  passing  wonder  He 
Who  made  him  such." 

Whoever  wishes  to  attain  the  faculty  of  speaking"  with  correctness  and 
elegance,  in  public  places,  and  in  the  social  circle,  would  do  well  to  call  and 
examine  the  system  for  themselves. 

A  Friend  to  the  Science  of  speaking  well. 


From  the  Troy  Daily  Budget  of  September  8,  1834. 
DR.  COMSTOCK'S  LECTURES. 

MR.  EDITOR — There  is  no  branch  of  education  more  deserving  of  public 
attention  than  oratory.  Volumes  have  been  written  upon  it.  It  has  been 
cultivated,  as  a  science,  in  all  civilized  countries;  and  its  power  has  been 
universally  felt  and  acknowledged.  Its  use  and  importance  have  occupied 
the  attention  of  many  distinguished  men  of  our  ewn  and  other  countries. 
Were  it  otherwise,  orators  could  not  command,  as  they  now  do,  "  the  ap. 
plause  of  listening  senates."  To  speak  well  is  one  of  the  highest  attain- 
ments to  which  our  hopes  can  aspire. 

Permit  me,  Sir,  to  invite  those  who  wish  to  attain  this  invaluable  science, 
to  attend  Dr.  Comstock's  Lectures  on  Elocution,  at  the  Court  House.  His 
manner  of  reading  is  bold,  original,  and  striking.  I  have  attended  his 
Lectures  for  several  days ;  and,  in  common  with  his  other  pupils,  highly 
appreciate  them.  He  is,  in  the  opinion  of  all  who  have  heard  him  lecture, 
a  faithful,  capable,  and  excellent  elocutionist. 

A  Friend  to  Oratory 


Dr.  Comstock  has  been  instructing  my  pupils  two  hours  in  a  day  for 
two  weeks,  in  Elocution;  and  I  am  happy  in  having  an  opportunity  to 
bear  testimony  to  their  unexampled  improvement  in  reading  and  speaking 

G.  W.  FRANCIS. 
Troy.  September  5,  1835. 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  9 

From  tJie  Philanthropist,  Philadelphia,  January  16,  1836. 
ELOCUTION. 

We  would  recommend  to  those  individuals  who  wish  to  become  chaste 
and  accomplished  speakers,  to  take  a  course  of  instruction  of  Dr.  Andrew 
Comstock,  whose  merits  as  an  elocutionist  we  have  had  the  opportunity  to 
prove. 

His  system,  which  has  the  best  claims  to  respect,  will  commend  itself 
to  persons  of  taste,  as  it  is  entirely  free  from  theatrical  affectation,  or  arti- 
ficial display,  and  founded  on  truth  and  nature.  Many  gentlemen  in  the 
learned  professions,  and  individuals  in  other  spheres  of  life,  who  have 
received  the  benefits  of  his  instruction,  and  who  are  therefore  the  well- 
qualified  judges  of  his  skill  in  this  science,  have  given  him  unsolicited 
and  unqualified  praise.  We  wish  him  continued  success. 


From  the  United  States  Gazette,  May  7,  1836. 
DR.  COMSTOCK'S  LECTURES  ON  ELOCUTION. 

Mr.  EDITOR  : — Having  occasion  on  my  return  from  Washington  to  New- 
York,  to  stop  a  few  days  at  Philadelphia,  I  most  cheerfully  availed  myself 
of  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  exercises  in  Elocution  in  which  Dr. 
Comstock's  pupils  are  engaged,  and  it  affords  me  pleasure  to  say,  that  I 
have  been  very  highly  gratified. 

The  skill  with  which  the  Doctor  imparts  to  his  pupils  a  knowledge  of 
the  science  and  art  of  Elocution,  and  the  proficiency  which  they  have 
already  made,  are  conclusive  evidences  that  Elocution  "  can  be  taught." 
It  was  taught  during  the  flourishing  ages  of  Greece  and  Rome.  Demos- 
thenes  and  Cicero  studied  it  in  those  republics,  and  studied  it  thoroughly 
anterior  to  their  successful  appearance  before  their  fellow-citizens  as 
orators. 

I  wish,  Mr.  Editor,  that  some  of  our  members  of  Congress  could,  or 
rather  would,  put  themselves  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  Comstock,  or  some 
other  accomplished  Elocutionist,  long  enough,  at  least,  to  learn  the  princi- 
ples upon  which  good  reading  and  speaking  are  founded.  If  our  national 
legislators  had  a  knowledge  of  Elocution,  as  taught  by  Dr.  Comstock,  they 
certainly  would  be  heard  with  much  more  attention  and  interest ;  and,  I 
may  add,  they  would  be  more  useful  to  the  country. 

Ministers  of  the  Gospel,  too,  by  becoming  first-rate  readers  and  speakers, 
can  promulgate  with  ease  and  facility,  the  truths  of  Christianity.  Reli 
gion  has  suffered  much  in  consequence  of  the  bungling  manner  in  which 
preachers  and  professors  have  presented  it  to  the  world.  It  is  gratifying 
to  know  that  several  clergymen  are  now  taking  lessons  in  Elocution,  of 
Dr  Comstock,  and  that  they  are  making  great  improvement. 

33* 


10  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

It  would  be  well  for  gentlemen  of  the  legal  profession,  to  study  the  laws 
of  Elocution,  as  well  as  those  of  the  land.  Ladies,  too,  ought  to  feel  in- 
terested in  improving  their  Elocution, — some  of  the  Philadelphia  ladies 
do ;  and  I  have  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  one  of  the  Doctor's  classes 
exercise,  the  members  of  which  are  becoming  excellent  readers. 

There  are  two  or  three  literary  institutions  in  which  Dr.  Cornstock's 
Valuable  services  have  been  retained.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  any  semi- 
nary of  learning,  especially  any  college,  should  exist  without  a  professor- 
ship of  Elocution.  It  is  not  only  an  important  branch  of  education,  bu 
s  much  so  as  any  to  which  the  attention  of  youth  can  be  directed. 

S.  N.  S. 

U.  S.  Hotel,  May  2,  1836. 

From  the  Episcopal  Recorder,  Rev.  George  A.  Smith,  Editor. 
Philadelphia,  Saturday  Morning,  June  18, 1836. 

ELOCUTION. 

The  following  communication  is  from  the  United  States  Gazette.  The 
subject  is  one  of  importance,  and  we  are  enabled  from  our  own  observa- 
tion to  confirm  the  statements  of  the  writer.  Several  of  our  clergy  have 
attended  Dr.  Comstock's  lectures,  and  consider  the  system  which  he  has 
adopted  well  calculated  to  assist  in  ease  and  propriety  of  reading  and 
speaking. 

Mr.  EDITOR  : — Impressed  with  the  value  of  education,  and  inclined  to 
contribute  aught  in  my  power  to  aid  those  who  are  in  the  pursuit  of  its 
benefits,  allow  me,  through  your  columns,  to  make  a  public  expression  of 
my  sentiments,  regarding  the  character  of  Dr.  Andrew  Cornstock,  as  a 
teacher  of  Elocution,  and  its  kindred  branches.  Having  been  a  common 
inmate  in  the  Doctor's  office  for  many  weeks,  examined  his  publications 
and  diagrams,  and  witnessed  his  method  of  instruction,  with  the  cheering 
success  by  which  it  has  been  characterised,  I  write  understandingly  upon 
this  occasion. 

From  the  Doctor's  knowledge  of  our  organs  of  speech,  of  their  diseases 
and  remedies,  and  the  best  mode  of  imparting  to  them  vigour  and  activity — 
from  his  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  sound,  ample  experience  in  his  present 
vocation,  joined  with  his  acknowledged  integrity,  I  am^  persuaded  he  is 
eminently  qualified  to  sustain  his  highest  pretensions  as~a  scientific  and 
practical  Elocutionist. 

Dr.  Comstock's  mode  of  instruction  is  founded  in  the  philosophy  of  his 
subject,  is  abundantly  successful  in  its  application — stands  the  scrutiny  of 
talents — challenges  the  confidence  of  society. 

Graduates  from  our  halls  of  science,  gentlemen  of  the  learned  profes 
sions — ladies  of  cultivated  minds,  have  been  pleased  to  testify  the  essen 
tial  advantage  they  have  derived  from  his  lectures. 

I  have  myself  been  much  delighted  in  seeing  the  rapid,  material,  and 
ofltimes  complete  improvement  which  unfortunate  stammerers  have  made, 
under  his  tuition,  in  their  enunciation — while  teacher  and  pupils  cordially 
indulged  in  theii  mutual  congratulations.  A  CLERGYMAN. 


RECOMMEN  DATIONS.  1 1 

From  the  U.  S.  Gazette. 
STAMMERING  CURED  BY  DR.  COMSTOCK 

Mr.  EDITOR  : — Having  experienced,  to  a  very  painful  extent,  the  many 
privations  necessarily  and  peculiarly  connected  with  inveterate  stammer- 
ing,  to  which  I  have  been  subject  from  early  liie,  I  am  anxious  thus  to 
acknowledge  the  restoration  that  has  been  effected  in  my  case,  under  the 
instruction  of  Dr.  Comstock.  Knowing,  as  I  well  do,  how  valuable  such 
a  communication  would  have  once  been  to  me,  I  arn  induced  to  pen  this 
for  the  benefit  of  others. 

My  articulation,  until  very  lately,  was  so  embarrassing  and  difficult,  83 
to  have,  in  a  very  great  degree,  shut  out  from  me  the  pleasure  of  conver- 
sation. I  could  scarcely  articulate  a  single  sentence  without  considerable 
ctfort  on  my  part,  and  apparent  anxiety  and  pain  to  others.  I  therefore 
seldom  spoke  from  choice,  and  even  avoided,  when  possible,  the  necessity 
of  doing  so.  I  am,  however,  no  longer  subjected  to  these  severe  depriva- 
tions, but  so  relieved  from  them,  that  I  can  now  converse  with  friends  or 
strangers,  and  feel  confident  of  my  power  to  do  so. 

Many  years  ago,  and  at  some  expense  and  trouble,  I  sought  out  Mr 
Chapman,  a  teacher  then  of  considerable  notoriety,  and  placed  myself  im- 
mediately  under  his  care.  Of  him  I  do  not  complain,  but  notice  the  fact 
as  part  of  my  experience.  Those  who  are  aware  of  his  injunctions  know 
how  impossible  it  is  here  to  compare  the  peculiarities  of  his  plan  with  the 
principles  of  my  last  tutor's,  whose  system,  however,  I  should  unhesi- 
tatingly prefer.  A.  EVANS. 

Philadelphia,  June  24, 1836. 


A  gentleman  named  Abner  Evans  called  on  me  a  few  weeks  ago,  and 
desired  me  to  examine  him,  in  his  conversation  and  in  his  reading 
with  reference  to  stammering  in  his  speech.  He  informed  me  that  he 
was  34  years  of  age — that  he  had  been  an  inveterate  stammerer  from  his 
infancy ;  but  that  he  had,  about  two  weeks  before  that  time,  placed  him- 
self under  the  care  of  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock,  and  that  he  now  believed 
himself  cured  of  the  infirmity  under  which  he  had  so  long  laboured.  I 
examined  the  gentleman  with  considerable  care,  and  was  unable  to  dis- 
cover anything  like  stammering,  or  embarrassment  or  impediment  in  his 
speech,  either  in  conversation  or  reading. 

JOHN  H.  WILLITS 

July  15th,  1836. 


I  certify,  that  I  have  known  Mr.  A.  Evans  for  a  number  of  years,  that 
he  was  an  irveterate  stammerer,  and  that  he  was  completely  relieved  in 
two  weeks,  under  the  instruction  of  Dr.  Comstock.  I  will  further  add, 
that  I  am  intimately  acquainted  with  Dr.  C.,  that  he  has  devoted  several 
years  to  the  study  of  the  subject  which  he  professes  to  teach,  and  that  I 
believe  he  is  fully  prepared  to  meet  any  case  of  impediment  in  reading  or 
Bpeaking  JOS.  P.  MUSGRAVE,  M.  D. 

No.  142,  Pine  Street,  Phila.,  July  16,  1836. 


12  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier,  October  29,  1836. 

CURE  FOR  STAMMERING. 

A  young  gentleman  named  Samuel  E.  Duth'eld,  of  M'Connelsburg,  in 
this  state,  called  upon  us  the  other  day,  and  wished  us  to  state  that  he  has 
always  been  subject  to  a  natural  impediment  of  speech,  which  of  late  years 
had  been  increasing  upon  him.  He  visited  this  city,  placed  himself  tinder 
the  care  of  Dr.  Comstock,  and  has  been  entirely  cured.  He  can  speak  and 
read  with  as  much  fluency  as  though  he  had  never  been  subject  to  any 
impediment  of  speech. 

From  the  United  States  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  Oct.  31,  1936. 
STAMMERING. 

We  had  on  Saturday  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  the  reading,  recitation 
and  discourse  of  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Comstock,  who  has  been  with  him  less 
than  three  weeks,  and  was  from  his  infancy  a  stammerer,  the  evil  increasing 
with  the  growth  of  the  youth,  and  with  his  intercourse  with  society.  He 
is  now  able  to  speak  and  read  without  the  least  sign  of  hesitancy.  Dr. 
Comstock's  system  is  simple,  and,  as  it  appears,  efficacious,  and  he  affects 
no  mystery  :  we  trust  that  those  who  are  subject  to  the  painful  inconveni- 
ence of  stammering,  will  apply  to  him;  and  we  really  believe  that  if  they 
will  give  attention  to  his  rules,  they  may  be  entirely  cured. 


From  the  Philadelphia  Gazette,  Nov.  29,  1836. 
The  following  tribute  to  the  skill  of  a  Gentleman  whose  success  in  a 
very  difficult  profession  has  been  astonishing,  is  not  less  grateful  to  the  ob- 
ject of  it  himself,  than  it  is  useful  to  the  public  at  large.     We  perform  a 
general  benefit  by  giving  it  currency  through  the  press. 
Letter  to  Dr.  Comstock,  of  Philadelphia. 

M'CoNNELSBURG,  Nov.  13,  1836. 

DEAR  SIR  ; — My  son  has  returned  from  the  city,  after  an  absence  of  about 
four  weeks,and  I  cannot  refrain  from  acknowledging  my  unfeigned  satisfac- 
tion in  the  improvement  of  his  speech.  Before  he  left  home  it  gave  me 
pain  to  hear  him  attempt  to  speak ;  now  I  will  defy  any  person  to  know 
he  had  ever  been  a  stammerer.  I  do  cordially  recommend  all  who  have 
an  impediment  in  their  speech,  if  possible  to  avail  themselves  of  your  sys 
tern  for  the  cure  of  stammering.  I  am,  with  respect,  yours,  &c. 

WILLIAM  DUFFIELD. 

From  the  United  States  Gazette. 

STAMMERING. 

We  publish  a  communication  from  the  Rev.  O.  C.  Comstock,  Chaplain 
to  Congress,  upon  the  merits  of  his  relative,  Dr.  A.  COMSTOCK,  of  this 
city,  as  a  professor  of  Elocution.  From  some  knowledge  of  the  scientific 
gentleman  alluded  to,  and  the  great  success  which  has  attended  his  exer- 
tions in  the  cure  of  stammering,  we  cordially  endorse  the  testimony.  The 
Rev.  Dr.  Comstock,  of  Washington,  being  himself  an  eloquent  divine, 
much  credit  may  be  attached  to  his  opinions  on  a  topic  so  entirely  within 
his  sphere. 

Letter  to  the  Editor,  from  the  Rev.  O.  C.  Comstock,  Chaplain  to  Congress. 

WASHINGTON,  January  26,  1837. 
SIR  —In  this  age  of  arrogant  pretension  and  stupendous  humbuggery 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  1 3 

the  public  should  receive  with  becoming  caution,  every  announcement  of 
extraordinary  achievements  in  any  of  the  departments  of  useful  knowledge. 
The  wonderful  exploits  of  ignorant  and  unprincipled  pretenders,  are  fre- 
quently lauded  to  the  skies,  in  the  newspaper  paragraphs  of  anonymous 
writers.  Disdaining  to  impose  on  honest  credulity,  by  making  an  asser- 
tion where  I  cannot  establish  a  fact — indisposed  to  avoid  any  responsibility, 
that  may  be  attached  to  my  character,  I  will  not  be  induced  to  do  so  upon 
this  occasion,  by  withholding  my  humble  name  from  this  article,  in  con- 
sequence  of  the  delicate  collateral  relation  subsisting  between  myself  and 
the  talented  and  honourable  gentleman  to  whom  it  alludes — I  mean  Dr.  A. 
Comstock,  of  Philadelphia.  The  Dr.  before  and  since  his  graduation  at  the 
uni  versity  of  Pennsylvania,  has  been  muchemployed  in  theeducation  of  youth. 

The  books  and  diagrams  which  he  has  published,  illustrating  the  true 
principles  of  elocution,  and  the  methods  by  which  it  can  be  most  successfully 
taught — the  high  state  of  improvement  witnessed  and  admired,  in  the  voice, 
reading  and  speaking  of  his  pupils,  render  him  deservedly  celebrated  as 
an  elocutionist,  wherever  his  reputation  is  known. 

But  I  should  not  have  obtruded  these  remarks  upon  the  consideration  of 
your  readers,  would  they  not  conduce  to  a  better  understanding  of  the  follow- 
ing intelligence,  which  I  hope  may  subserve  the  interests  of  suffering 
humanity. 

My  friend  has  removed,  in  numbers  of  unfortunate  stammerers,  that  most 
embarrassing  and  painful  difficulty  of  enunciation  with  which  they  have 
been  affected.  Some  of  these  sufferers  had  been  long  schooled  by  others, 
with  reference  to  the  removal  of  this  calamity,  with  little  or  no  success. 

That  a  cure,  in  this  case,  is  an  object  most  ardently  to  be  desired,  is  deeply 
felt  by  every  victim  of  this  misfortune — by  every  fond  parent,  who,  but  for 
stammering,  might  regard  his  darling  boy  a  fair  candidate  for  the  highest 
academic  honours — the  applause  of  listening  Senates.  There  is  now  before 
my  mental  vision  a  lovely  boy  of  great  promise,  on  whom  his  parents  design 
to  bestow  a  finished  education  ;  but  who,  alas  !  was  painfully  afflicted  with 
stammering.  He  is  now,  however,  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  Comstock.  greatly 
improving  in  his  elocution ;  inspiring  the  confident  expectation  of  perfect 
victory  over  the  source  of  so  much  unhappiness.  The  sparkling  animation 
of  his  eye — his  cheering  smiles — express  the  rapture  of  his  grateful  heart. 
The  thankfulness  and  joyful  anticipation  of  his  parents  cannot  be  described, 
or  even  imagined,  but  by  those  in  similar  circumstances. 

Having  spent  some  months  with  my  relative,  I  am  well  acquainted  with 
his  system,  and  manner  of  instruction,  and  its  delightful  results. 

Unlike  all  sorts  of  imposture,  there  is  no  affectation  of  superlative  wisdom 
held  as  a  profound  secret,  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  this  valuable  art — 
as  triumphantly  explored  and  applied  by  the  Doctor.  His  course  of  opera- 
tion is  founded  in  an  extensive  knowledge  of  his  subject — the  fruit  of  his 
ample  study  and  practice.  His  discipline  developes,  invigorates,  and  ren- 
sers  flexible  the  organs  of  speech.  He  teaches  his  pupils  how  these  organs 
are  to  be  properly  exercised.  They  are  made  obedient  to  the  will — capable 
of  much  and  various  accomplishments.  In  short,  he  cures  stammerers,  by 
teaching  them  scientific  and  practical  elocution. 

How  much  reason  have  we  to  rejoice  in  the  march  of  mind — the  effort? 
of  philanthropy — the  benevolence  of  God.  Yours,  with  respect, 

O.  C.  COMSTOCK 


!4  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

Certificates  from  Professor  Homer  and  Professor  Hare,  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Pennsylvania. 

Having  been  present  on  the  10th  inst.  at  the  exercises  of  the  pupils  in  Dr 
Andrew  Comstock's  Gymnasium,  for  the  improvement  of  the  voice  and  of 
the  articulation  in  stammerers  and  others,  the  impression  made  upon  me  was 
highly  favourable  to  his  method  of  instruction. 

The  system  is  founded  upon  an  exact  anatomical  and  physiological  inform, 
ation,  in  regard  to  the  organs  concerned  in  the  production  and  modification 
of  sound.  Its  several  parts  appear  to  have  been  evolved  and  matured  upon  a 
degree  of  thought  and  an  extent  of  experiment  reflecting  much  credit  upon 
his  sagacity  and  industry,  and  it  inspires  a  very  strong  confidence  of  its  ap- 
plicability to  the  faults  generally  of  speech  or  phonation.  One  of  his  pupils, 
who  only  a  week  before  the  occasion  alluded  to,  had  been  a  most  unpleasant 
stammerer,  was  then  heard  to  recite  publicly  with  great  ease  and  fluency, 
with  a  full  intonation.  W.  E.  HORNER,  M.  D. 

Professor  of  Anatomy  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Philadelphia,  Aug.  11,  1837. 

PHILADELPHIA,  Aug.  14th,  1837. 

Having  been  present  on  the  occasion  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  letter  of 
the  Professor  of  Anatomy,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  alleging  that  my  impres- 
sions are  consistent  with  those  which  my  colleague  has  therein  expressed. 

ROBERT  HARE,  M.  D. 
Professor  of  Chemistry  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 


From  the  Select  Medical  Library  and  Eclectic  Journal  of  Medicine, 
edited  by  John  Bell,  M.  D.,  Lecturer  on  the  Institutes  of  Medicine 
and  Medical  Jurisprudence,  Member  of  the  College  of  Physicians 
of  Philadelphia,  and  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  etc, 
September,  1837. 

COMSTOCK'S  VOCAL  GYMNASIUM  AND  LYCEUM  FOR 
ELOCUTION. 

IT  is  not  necessary  that  a  man  should  be  a  stammerer,  in  order  to  be  aware, 
from  personal  experience,  of  his  imperfection  in  vocal  utterance  and  speech, 
We  are  taught  to  read  and  to  express  ourselves  grammatically  in  conversa- 
tion ;  but  how  few  learn  suitable  intonation,  and  a  full  and  a  distinct  utter- 
ance,— by  which  speech  obtains  much  of  its  charm  and  acquires  often  all  its 
influence.  Graceful  gestures  in  walking  and  dancing,  and  in  presenting 
one's  self  in  company,  are  thought  by  many  to  be  of  paramount  importance; 
and  hence,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  majority  of  young  persons  of  both  sexes 
are  placed  under  the  direction  of  a  teacher  of  dancing.  And  yet,  after  all, 
what  are  the  graces  of  manner  compared  to  the  melody  of  voice;  and  how 
imperfect  the  address  of  the  otherwise  accomplished  gentleman  or  lady,  with- 
out full  and  mellifluous  speech !  Nature  here,  as  in  all  that  concerns  either 
bodily  or  mental  endowment,  does,  it  is  true,  establish  great  differences 
amongst  individuals.  One  person  lias,  naturally,  a  musical  voice,  as  it  is 
called ;  another  a  harsh  or  somewhat  dissonant  one.  But  still,  education  poi 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  15 

Besses,  we  also  know,  a  good  deal  of  plastic  power ;  and  in  no  case  is  the  in. 
duencu  of  physical  education  more  evident  than  in  the  strength  which  exer. 
cise  gives  to  the  muscles  in  general,  and  in  the  agility  and  grace  which  prac- 
tice imparts  to  the  movements  of  the  limbs;  as  in  the  evolutions  of  the  dance, 
and  on  the  tight  rope,  &c.  On  the  same  principle  precisely,  without  any 
charm,  magic  or  mystification,  can  the  muscles  which,  by  their  successive  or 
alternate  and  combined  action,  give  rise  to  voice  and  speech,  be  educated  into 
strength  and  measured  and  harmonious  movement,  and  produce  clear  and 
full  intonation,  distinct  articulation,  and  emphatic  utterance. 

This  particular  department  of  muscular  exercise  and  education,  has  greater 
claims  on  our  time  and  attention  than  any  other.  The  organs  of  speech,  with 
few  unfortunate  exceptions,  are  possessed  by  all  mankind ;  they  are  in  con- 
stant use  by  all, — their  functions  are  of  the  highest  moment  to  all,  whether 
for  the  display  of  the  charms  of  song  and  poetry,  the  persuasion  of  oratory, 
the  invocation  of  prayer,  and  the  numberless  exchanges  of  opinion  and  ex- 
pression of  the  affections  and  emotions  in  social  intercourse.  The  most  rigid 
puritan  or  methodist,  who  would  regard  with  distaste,  perhaps  horror,  the  ex- 
ercises of  the  dance,  and  attach  no  importance  to  the  graces  of  bodily  move- 
ment,  will  still  be  as  naturally  and  properly  desirous  of  cultivating  the  voice, 
as  the  greatest  stickler  for  worldly  accomplishments.  He  does  it  in  learning 
to  sing  the  praises  of  his  Maker,  and  when  engaged  in  the  solemn  exercises 
of  prayer  and  exhortation. 

With  the  other  sex,  the  charm  of  voice  is  a  powerful  means  of  persuasion 
and  control.  It  gives  to  woman  much  of  her  influence — an  influence  de- 
pending on  the  mildness  of  her  manner,  and  her  soft  and  musical  tones,  dis- 
played in  the  language  of  sympathy,  entreaty,  and  of  kind  remonstrance. 
Her's  is  the  privilege  and  the  duty  to  be  at  the  side  of  the  suffering  invalid, 
in  infancy,  in  youth,  and  in  mature  age ;  to  comfort  the  mourner,  and  to  aid 
the  poor  and  distressed.  And  what  makes  the  potions  to  the  feverish  patient 
less  nauseous — what  gives  balm  to  the  language  of  resignation,  and  imparts 
the  glow  of  pleasure  to  the  wan  and  weary  beggar,  when  she  is,  in  each 
rase,  the  ministering  angel !  Much  is  in  the  pitying  look,  much  in  the  in- 
clining gesture  and  softened  manner  ;  but  still  more  in  the  tones  of  her  voice, 
her  low  and  smoothly  uttered  words  of  solace  and  of  hope. 

Why  then  should  this  instrument,  which  is  capable  of  giving  out  such  ex- 
quisite music,  be  jarred  and  discordant  in  its  tones,  through  early  neglect  and 
bad  habits.  It  has  been  said  by  European  travellers  of  both  sexes,  that  Amer- 
ican women  would  be  in  all  respects  charming,  but  for  their  want  of  melody 
of  voice  in  common  speech.  Surely  this  stigma,  for  such  in  one  sense  it  is, 
might  be,  and  ought  to  be  removed,  just  as  the  flutter,  agitation,  and  jerking 
movements  of  the  body  and  limbs  would  be  corrected,  by  appropriate  exercise 
and  training  under  tasteful  guidance  and  precept. 

Still  more  necessary  is  this  kind  of  education  where  the  imperfection 
amounts  to  disease,  as  in  hesitancy,  stammering,  and  other  imperfect  artieu- 
iation.  The  cure  requires  time,  patience  on  the  part  both  of  the  invalid  and 
of  the  vocal  doctor,  and  practice  in  the  manner  which  scientific  experience, 
not  impudent  and  boastful  quackery,  has  shown  to  be  most  serviceable,  so  as 
to  give  that  confidence  which  is  the  result  of  conscious  ability.  The  timidity 
and  feeling  of  embarrassment  of  the  stammerer,  are  both  effects  and  sustain, 
ing  causes  of  his  impediment.  So  soon  as  he  knows  that  his  vocal  organs 


16  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

are  capable  of  obeying  the  commands  of  his  will,  and  of  giving  expression 
to  his  thoughts,  his  mind  acts  with  more  energy  and  intentness ;  and  he  no 
longer  allows  himself  to  be  trammelled  in  his  speech,  by  the  weak,  tremulous 
and  convulsive  movements  of  the  muscles,  which,  under  less  energetic  voli- 
tion, used  to  be  so  common  with  him. 

When  we  wrote  the  caption  of  this  article,  we  did  not  intend  to  direct  the 
attention  of  our  professional  brethren  merely  to  the  existing  evils,  but  were 
desirous  to  apprize  them  of  the  fact,  that  one  of  our  own  number  has  for  many 
years  past  concentrated  his  talents  and  his  time  exclusively  to  the  subject  of 
Elocution,  both  in  its  hygienic  relations  with  fluent  speech  in  private  and 
public,  in  the  social  circle  and  at  the  bar,  the  pulpit  and  the  legislative  hall; 
and,  also,  in  its  curative  character,  to  remove  stammering  and  other  impedi. 
ments  to  clear  and  distinct  articulation  and  utterance.  The  gentleman  to 
whom  we  refer,  is  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock  of  this  city.  He  makes  no  preten- 
sion to  a  knowledge  of  any  specific  for  the  cure  of  stammerers,  nor  does  he 
attempt  to  shroud  his  method  in  unintelligible  jargon,  nor  to  conceal  it  from 
public  and  scientific  investigation,  by  swearing  his  pupils  to  secrecy.  All 
these  are  arts  and  tricks  unworthy  of  the  literary  and  professional  character, 
and  disreputable,  above  all,  to  him  who  professes  to  be  a  teacher,  and  in  whom 
manly  sincerity  ought  ever  to  shine  conspicuously,  as  an  example  to  those 
under  his  charge. 

In  Doctor  Comstock's  Institution,  "  Elocution  is  treated  as  a  science  as  well 
as  an  art.  The  various  movements  of  the  voice,  both  in  speech  and  song, 
are  illustrated  by  original  diagrams,  and  by  oral  instruction  The  exercises 
give  the  pupil  complete  command  of  the  muscles  of  articulation,  extend  the 
compass  of  the  voice  and  render  it  smooth,  powerful,  and  melodious.  They 
not  only  call  forth  all  the  energies  of  the  vocal  organs,  correct  stammering, 
lisping,  and  other  impediments  of  speech ;  but  they  invigorate  the  lungs,  and 
consequently  fortify  them  against  the  invasion  of  disease."  To  a  certain  ex- 
tentj  general  is  associated  with  vocal  gymnastics ;  and  one  great  cause  of  em- 
barrassment from  awkwardness  of  manner  and  posture  in  the  stammerer,  is 
removed  by  the  substitution  of  a  free  and  easy  carriage  and  movements  of  the 
arms  in  gesticulation.  In  other  words,  all  the  voluntary  muscles  of  the  trunk 
and  limbs  move  in  the  order  required  by  the  will,  synchronously  and  harmo- 
niously  with  those  of  the  voice. 

In  proof  that  Doctor  Comstock  is  above  the  petty  arts  of  making  elocution 
a  mere  craft  and  mystery,  we  have  now  before  us,  Remarks  on  Stammering, 
from  a  Lecture  on  Elocution,  delivered  before  the  American  Lyceum,  May  6, 
]  837,  in  which  he  explains  the  chief  features  of  his  system,  and  indicates  the 
kind  and  order  of  exercises  to  be  pursued  for  the  cure  of  Stammerers.  But 
like  all  other  branches  of  professional  knowledge,  this  can  only  be  rendered 
efficient  and  applicable  to  the  cure  of  individual  cases  by  a  practitioner,  a 
person  who  directs  knowingly  and  understandingly,  and  superintends  care- 
fully  and  patiently,  the  treatment,  making  such  modifications  as  seem  to  bo 
called  for  by  his  own  personal  experience  and  the  idiosyncracy  of  the  patient. 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  17 

From  the  Public  Ledger,  July  27,  1837. 

Remarks  on  Stammering. — Wefhave  received  a  small  pampMet  with  this 
utle,  being  the  substance  of  a  lecture  delivered  before  the  American  Lyceum, 
May  6,  1837,  by  Andrew  Comstock,  M.  D.,  of  this  city.  He  has  treated  his 
subject  scientifically,  and  in  a  manner  showing  that  he  understands  the 
human  voice  both  theoretically  and  practically.  He  has  been  engaged  for  ten 
years,  investigating  the  human  voice,  for  the  purpose  of  forming  a  system  of 
iust  elocution,  and  of  removing  impediments  of  speech ;  and  from  reading 
*his  little  pamphlet,  we  should  infer  that  he  had  been  successful. 


From  the  United  States  Gazette. 

CONGRESS  HALL,  Philadelphia,  Nov.  25,  1837. 
ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D. 

DEAR  SIR, — Before  leaving  your  city,  allow  me  to  express  to  you  the  perfect 
satisfaction  I  feel,  in  witnessing  the  progress  which  my  son  has  made  in 
Elocution  under  your  instruction. 

The  habit  of  stammering  which  commenced  with  his  early  efforts  to  speak, 
and  which  thirteen  years  (his  present  age)  seemed  only  to  confirm,  is  now, 
with  six  weeks'  instruction,  completely  eradicated. 

Though  delighted  beyond  expression  in  this  result,  I  am  not  disappointed. 
From  the  moment  I  became  acquainted  with  your  method  of  instruction,  I 
did  not  doubt  its  entire  success.  Founded  on  scientific  principles,  it  must 
succeed  in  all  cases  where  there  is  no  malformation  of  the  organs  of  speech. 

You  have  reduced  to  a  system  what  before  was  but  imperfectly  understood, 
and  done  most  essential  service  to  mankind  in  elevating  a  numerous  class  of 
unfortunate  fellow-beings,  and  saved  them  from  the  impositions  of  ignorant 
and  unprincipled  empirics. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  sen-ant, 

E.  PIERCE,  M.  D.  of  Athens,  N.  Y. 


From  the  Public  Ledger,  March  17,  1838. 
STAMMERING  CURED. 

PHILADELPHIA,  March  1,  1838. 

MESSRS.  EDITORS, — Being  about  to  leave  this  city  for  the  West,  I  would 
ihank  you  to  give  publicity  to  my  testimony  as  to  the  skill  of  Dr.  Andrew 
Comstock,  No.  100,  Arch  street,  Philadelphia,  in  removing  stammering.  I 
have  been  under  his  care  about  eight  weeks,  for  the  removal  of  a  painful 
impediment  of  eighteen  years  standing,  which  debarred  me  from  the  plea- 
sures  of  conversation  and  social  intercourse.  I  can  now  converse  very 
fluently,  and  have  addressed  large  audiences  without  the  least  hesitation, 

34 


18  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

I  am  now  23  years  of  age,  and  you  can  judge  of  my  gratitude  to  him  for 
removing  a  complaint  which  has  embittered  the  greatest  part  of  my  life.  I 
take  great  pleasure  in  recommending  him  to  those  similarly  afflicted.  His 
system  being  founded  on  scientific  principles,  and  the  fact  of  his  being  the 
only  individual  in  America,  who  professes  the  cure  of  stammering,  without 
exacting  from  his  patient  a  promise  of  secrecy,  proves  that  his  system  wi,i 
bear  investigation. 

WM.  R.  COMBS. 

WE  certify  that  we  have  been  intimately  acquainted  with  Wtii.  R.  Combt 
for  the  last  three  years ;  that  he  was  a  very  bad  stammerer,  and  that  he  was 
entirely  relieved  under  the  instruction  of  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock,  of  No.  100, 
Arch  street,  Philadelphia. 

JOHN  R.  BECK,  No.  17,  Elizabeth  st. 

THOMAS  J.  WHITE,  No.  380,  N.  Second  st 

JACOB  GRIM,  No.  480,  N.  Third  st. 

THOMAS  P.  HEYL,  No.  173,  Green  st. 


STAMMERING  CURED. 

PHILADELPHIA,  March  9,  1838. 

MESSRS.  EDITORS, — About  seven  weeks  since  I  placed  myself  under  the 
care  of  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock,  No.  100,  Arch  street,  Philadelphia,  for  the 
removal  of  an  impediment  in  my  speech,  with  which  I  had  been  afflicted  for 
thirteen  years.  I  am  now  happy  to  state  that  I  am  able  to  converse  with 
ease  and  fluency,  and  that  I  feel  no  hesitation  in  speaking  in  public.  I  have 
witnessed  the  same  happy  results  in  many  other  cases,  both  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen.  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  his  success  in  curing  the  most  inveterate 
stammerer.  Unlike  all  others  who  have  professed  to  cure  stammering  in  this 
country,  Dr.  Comstock  exacts  no  promise  of  secrecy  from  his  patient. 

HENRY  J.  ENNIS 
No.  248,  Pearl  street,  New- York. 


From  the  Phcenix  Civilian,  Cumberland,  Md.,  May  19,  1838. 

Our  acquaintance  with  the  young  gentleman  mentioned  below,  who  ha» 
received  the  benefit  of  Dr.  Comstock's  treatment  in  the  cure  of  an  impedi- 
ment  of  speech  under  which  he  laboured,  enables  us  to  bear  evidence  of  the 
efficacy  of  that  treatment.  Since  his  return  from  Philadelphia,  where  ho 
had  been  under  Dr.  Comstock's  care  for  a  short  time,  we  find  that  his  speech 
is  free  and  easy ;  so  much  so,  that  had  we  not  been  aware  of  the  great  difil 
culty  under  which  he  laboured  before,  we  should  not  now  kn^«v  that  he  evei 
had  been  cured  of  such  an  affliction. 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  19 

From  the  Pennsylvania^  Philadelphia,  April  26,  1838. 
A  GRATIFYING  TESTIMONIAL. 

The  subjoined  letter  to  Dr.  Comstock,  Professor  of  Elocution,  of  this  city, 
is  from  a  young  gentleman  of  great  respectability,  residing  at  Cumberland, 
Allegany  county,  Maryland,  where  his  father  is  one  of  the  leading  prac- 
titioners at  the  bar.  The  writer  of  the  letter,  who,  we  believe,  is  a  student 
at  law,  laboured  under  a  serious  impediment  in  speech,  which  would  have 
greatly  interfered  with  his  professional  advancement;  but  it  appears  from  hia 
own  statement,  that  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Comstock,  he  was  completely  and 
radically  cured.  The  letter  subjoined,  is  a  voluntary  and  grateful  testimonial 
to  that  effect 

CUMBERLAND,  Md.,  April  20,  1838. 
DR.  ANDREW  COMSTOCK  : 

DEAR  SIR, — I  have  deferred  giving  a  certificate  with  regard  to  the  success 
I  met  with  in  my  recent  visit  to  your  Institution,  No.  100,  Arch  street,  Phi- 
ladelphia,  for  the  purpose  of  removing  an  impediment  in  my  speech,  until 
the  present  period,  that  I  might  thoroughly  test  the  effects  of  your  system 
upon  my  articulation  by  time  and  experience.  Both  of  these,  I  am  happy 
to  inform  you,  find  me  now — as  was  the  case  when  I  left  Philadelphia  on 
the  13th  of  February  last — perfectly  fluent  in  reading  as  well  as  in  conversa- 
tion— so  much  so,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  any  one  who  had  no  pre- 
vious knowledge  of  my  impediment,  to  know  that  any  such  defect  ever 
afflicted  me. 

But  besides  the  happy  effect  your  system  has  had  in  relieving  my  impedi- 
ment, it  has  been  of  incalculable  benefit  to  me  in  many  other  respects.  My 
voice,  which  was  formerly  weak,  and  incapable  of  being  raised  very  little 
higher  than  the  ordinary  tone  used  in  common  conversation,  has  been 
greatly  improved  and  strengthened ;  and  now  it  costs  me  but  a  slight 
physical  effort  to  fill  a  considerable  space. 

In  conclusion,  I  unhesitatingly  recommend  all  those  similarly  afflicted,  to 
make  a  trial  of  your  system.  Besides  the  success  which  has  attended  it  in 
my  own  case,  I  have  seen  many  others  greatly  benefited — both  ladies  and 
gentlemen.  This  speaks  more  strongly  in  its  favour  than  words  can  express, 
and  should  remove  all  doubt  from  the  minds  of  individuals,  if  any  exist,  as 
to  its  efficacy  in  effecting  a  cure. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

CHARLES  H.  J.  PIGMAN. 


DR.  COMSTOCK'S 
EXHIBITIONS  IN  VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

The  STAMMERERS  under  Dr.  Comstock,  both  Ladies 
and  Gentlemen,  give  a  variety  of  recitations,  at  the  Vocal 
Gymnasium,  (entrance  by  Ranstead  Court,  Fourth  St.  above 
Chesnut,)  every  Tuesday  evening. 

TICKETS,  25  cents  each,  — and  may  be  obtained  at 
Osborn's  Music  Store,  Fourth  Street,  two  doors  below  Ran- 
stead Court.  Each  ticket  admits  a  gentleman  and  two 
ladies.  The  exercises  commence  at  8  o'clock. 

jXT3  The  design  of  these  Exhibitions  is  to  give  confidence 
to  the  Stammerer,  which  is  so  essential  to  his  relief,  and 
make  the  public  better  acquainted  with  the  system  of 
instruction  and  its  beneficial  results.  The  sale  of  tickets  is 
to  secure  an  audience  of  respectable  persons,  and  defray  the 
incidental  expenses. 

ANDREW  COMSTOCK 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  Public  Ledger,  February  6,  1838. 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

A  class  of  students  in  elocution,  and  stammerers,  under  Dr.  Comstcck, 
exhibited  at  the  Vocal  Gymnasium,  (Ranstead  Court,  Fourth  Street,  above 
Chesnut,)  on  Saturday  evening  last.  Dr.  Comstock's  lecture  on  elocution 
and  stammering  displayed  an  intimate  knowledge  of  his  subject,  and  the 
performances  of  the  class  did  infinite  credit  to  his  talents  as  a  teacher. 

(20) 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  21 

From  the  Pennsylvanian,  February  6,  1838. 

DR.  COMSTOCK,  the  professor  of  elocution,  gave  an  exhibition  on  Saturday 
evening,  at  the  Temperance  Hall,  N.  L.,  for  the  purpose  chiefly  of  affording 
a  practical  explanation  of  his  system  of  instruction,  and  showing  its  success 
in  the  cure  of  stammering  and  other  defects  of  speech.  A  large  audience, 
many  ladies  being  among  the  number,  was  present,  and  the  exercises  evi- 
dently gave  general  satisfaction.  It  was  surprising  to  hear  the  firmness  and 
smoothness  with  which  the  pupils  spoke,  many  of  whom  until  recently  were 
confirmed  stammerers,  and  it  was  still  more  surprising  to  learn  in  how  short 
a  tiro?  the  evil  habit  had  been  eradicated,  the  consciousness  of  a  complete 
cure  b»ing  strongly  manifest  in  the  modest  confidence  with  which  the  Doc- 
tor's  pupils,  several  of  whom  were  young  ladies,  went  through  their  recita- 
tions before  so  large  an  audience.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that 
this  system  of  instruction  is  intended  solely  for  the  stammerer.  Founded 
upon  the  sound  philosophical  principles  laid  down  by  Dr.  Rush,  it  is  impor 
tant  in  many  respects.  It  has  a  wonderful  effect  in  developing  the  voice, 
and  in  giving  it  volume,  flexibility  and  compass,  while  the  practice  of  the 
elements  strengthens  the  chest,  and  's  very  beneficial  to  the  general  health, 
fortifying  it  in  a  measure  against  the  approach  of  diseases  of  the  lungs. 
The  advantage  of  vocal  gymnastics  judiciously  conducted,  is  not  yet  per- 
haps fully  appreciated,  but  it  is  more  than  probable  that  the  time  will  come 
when  they  will  form  a  part  of  every  liberal  course  of  instruction. 


From  the  Public  Ledger,  February  16,  1838. 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

The  exhibition  of  Dr.  Comstock's  class  of  Stammerers,  at  Temperance 
Hall,  on  Wednesday  evening,  was  highly  gratifying  to  a  numerous  and 
highly  respectable  audience  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The  system  pursued 
appears  to  be  calculated  to  accomplish  the  end  in  view ;  but  the  eminent 
success  it  has  so  far  met  with,  is  to  be  ascribed,  in  a  great  degree,  to  the 
talents  of  Dr.  Comstock  as  a  teacher. 


From  the  Christian  Advocate  and  Journal,  New  -  York,  April  27, 1838. 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  2,  1838. 

DEAR  BRETHREN, — Having  attended  Dr.  Comstock's  exhibitions,  I  am  fully 
persuaded,  that  with  proper  attention  on  the  part  of  the  pupils,  he  can  cure 
them.  I  was  induced  to  attend  in  consequence  of  his  having  in  his  class  a 
particular  friend  of  mine,  whose  case  was  one  of  the  worst  I  ever  knew 
and  to  my  astonishment,  he  addressed  an  audience  without  the  least  diffi 
culty,  making  quite  a  display  as  an  orator.  His  age  is  about  twenty-one 
years.  If  you  feel  at  liberty  to  notice  him  in  your  paper,  you  may  render 
essential  service  to  stammerers.  Respectfully, 

J.  HARMSTEAD. 
34*  c2 


22  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  United  States  Gazette,  April  30,  1838. 
STAMMERERS. 

The  recitations,  and  other  vocal  exercises,  made  on  Tuesday  evenings,  at 
Dr.  Comstock's  Vocal  Gymnasium,  in  Ranstead  Court,  furnish  evidence  of 
great  success  in  his  mode  of  teaching.  His  pupils,  to  the  number  of  thirtj 
or  forty,  male  and  female,  give  recitations  in  a  style  that  shows,  not  only  th« 
entire  absence  of  any  disposition  to  stammer,  but  evincing  also  a  striking 
proficiency  in  the  agreeable,  as  well  as  useful  science  of  elocution. 


From  the  Pennsylvania  Inquirer,  May  10,  1838. 
STAMMERING. 

A  friend  in  whose  judgment  as  well  as  impartiality  we  place  reliance, 
speaks  in  terms  of  warm  commendation  of  Dr.  Comstock's  success  in  curing 
Impediments  in  speech,  and  imparting  a  free  action  to  the  organs  of  articu- 
lation. The  public  recitations  of  his  class,  which  take  place  every  Tuesday 
evening,  at  his  room  adjoining  the  Church  in  Ranstead  Court,  are  spoken  of 
as  furnishing  evidence  of  success  in  curing  stammerers,  as  well  as  of  striking 
proficiency  in  elocution,  which  Dr.  C.  teaches  with  great  effect. 


From  the  United  States  Gazette. 

MR.  EDITOR, — I  have  attended  two  of  the  Vocal  Gymnastic  Exhibitions 
which  have  attracted  so  much  attention  in  our  city.  The  design  of  these 
exhibitions,  as  stated  by  Dr.  Comstock,  with  whom  they  have  originated,  and 
by  whom  they  are  conducted,  is  to  enable  the  stammerer  to  rid  himself  of 
that  timidity  which  is  a  greater  or  less  aggravation  of  his  disease.  If 
timidity  in  one  who  has  no  impediment  of  speech,  interrupts  the  utterance 
of  thoughts,  surely  in  a  confirmed  stammerer,  it  must  be  a  source  of  the 
highest  degree  of  embarrassment  to  the  vocal  organs.  Timidity,  then,  must 
be  removed  before  the  stammerer  can  have  full  command  of  his  own  organs 
of  speech.  To  do  this,  Dr.  Comstock  brings  his  whole  class,  both  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  before  the  crowded  houses  which  assemble  to  hear  the  welkin 
ring  with  their  various  exercises  in  what  is  well  denominated  by  Dr.  C. 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS.  Could  art,  science,  experience,  wisdom,  or  philosophy, 
suggest  a  more  efficacious  means  for  the  destruction  of  timidity  than  the 
production  of  courage  by  individual  and  collective  public  speaking  ?  Nor  is 
the  performance  of  these  stammerers  void  of  all  powers  to  edify,  and  amuse 
— there  is  much  to  instruct,  and  please,  both  in  manner  and  matter,  in  these 
exhibitions,  which,  for  the  sake  of  the  great  good  they  seem  likely  to  pro 
duce  to  the  afflicted  stammerer,  I  hope  will  be  fully  sustained  by  this 
enlightened  public. 

A  WELL  WISHER  to  Freedom  of  Speech, 


PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION,  Or,  A  System  of  Vocal 
Gymnastics,  comprising  Diagrams,  illustrative  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  Exercises,  designed  for  the  Promotion  of  Health, 
the  Cure  of  Stammering,  and  Improvement  in  Reading 
and  Speaking.  By  ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D.  Second 
Edition.  Kay  &  Brother,  122,  Chesnut  Street. 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier,  Dec.  2, 1837. 
PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

Dr.  COMSTOCK,  a  gentleman  with  whose  name  our  readers  are  familiar  as 
the  scientific  curer  of  Stammering,  has  issued  a  second  edition  of  his  work 
on  Practical  Elocution.  It  is  believed  to  be  the  best  practical  work  extant 
upon  this  important  subject  It  is  based  upon  the  philosophical  develope- 
ments  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Rush ;  and  so  far  as  strengthening  the  lungg  is 
concerned,  the  exercises  it  teaches  are  of  vast  importance.  Those  who  do 
not  intend  to  become  orators,  may  cultivate  and  improve  the  conversational 
and  colloquial  powers,  and  secure  a  grace,  ease  and  power,  that  will  render 
them  polished  and  sought-for  intelligences  in  the  mystic  roads  of  social 
intercourse.  The  work  is  illustrated  with  engravings,  and  very  beautifully 
got  up  both  in  paper  and  print. 


From  the  Philadelphia  Saturday  News,  Dec.  2,  1837. 

RACTICAL  ELOCUTION,  Or,  A  System  of  Vocal  Gymnastics,  &c.   By 

ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D. 

Dr.  Comstock  is  known  as  a  skilful  and  scientific  teacher  of  elocution. 
He  has  devoted  much  study  to  the  subject,  and  has  had  the  advantage  of 
very  considerable  experience  in  the  practical  application  of  his  knowledge. 
His  classes  are  generally  filled  with  pupils,  and  their  success  is  the  best 
testimonial  of  the  merits  of  his  system. 

This  volume  will  be  found  a  valuable  aid  to  those  who  are  engaged  eithei 
in  teaching  or  acquiring  the  important  art  of  elocution.  Besides  a  concise 
but  sufficiently  clear,  analysis  of  the  subject,  and  various  explanatory  details, 
it  furnishes  a  series  of  diagrams  calculated  very  much  to  facilitate  the  pro. 
gress  of  the  learners.  These  diagrams  have  been  prepared  with  much  care 
and  labour,  and  reflect  high  praise  on  the  industry  and  ability  of  Doctor 
Comstock. 

(23) 


24  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  United  States  Gazette. 
PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

Messrs.  Kay  &  Brother,  122,  Chesnut  street,  have  published  a  second  edi- 
tion of  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock's  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION,  OR,  A  SYSTEM  OF 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS.  We  really  believe  that  the  great  labour  and  amount  of 
time  which  Dr.  C.  has  bestowed  upon  this  volume,  will  be  productive  of  essen- 
tial benefits  to  the  learner.  The  selections  are  apposite,  and  the  remarks 
such  as  show  the  author  master  of  his  subject. 


From  the  Saturday  Chronicle,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  2,  1837. 
PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. — Kay  <^  Brother. — Philadelphia. 

The  volume  now  before  us,  comprises  a  system  of  "  Vocal  Gymnastics," 
by  Andrew  Comstock,  M.  D.,  and  consists  of  diagrams,  illustrative  of  the 
subject,  and  exercises.  The  plan  recommended  is  designed  for  thf  promotion 
of  health,  cure  of  stammering,  and  improvement  in  reading  and  speaking. 
The  rapid  sale  of  its  first  edition  seems  to  be  a  proof  of  Us  popularit}  ;  while 
several  men  of  eminence  in  literature  and  science  have  pronounced  Doctor 
Comstock's  system  a  decided  improvement  upon  the  usual  routine  of  teach- 
ing  in  Elocution. 


From  the  Public  Ledger,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  5,  1837. 
COMSTOCK'S  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

We  have  received  from  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock,  of  this  city,  a  copy  of  his 
late  work,  entitled  "  Practical  Elocution,  or,  a  System  of  Vocal  Gymnastics, 
comprising  Diagrams  and  Exercises,  &c.,  designed  for  the  promotion  of 
health,  the  cure  of  stammering,  and  improvement  in  reading  and  speaking." 

This  work  contains  rules  for  pronouncing  all  the  vowels,  sub-vowels,  and 
diphthongs  in  the  English  language,  with  plates  to  illustrate  the  position  of 
the  mouth  in  pronouncing  them.  These  sounds  he  denominates  elements ; 
and  he  gives  tables  exhibiting  an  analysis  of  words,  consisting  of  both  easy 
and  difficult  combinations  of  these  elements.  In  spelling  these  words,  the 
pupil  is  required  to  pronounce  the  clement  or  vowel  sound,  and  not  the  name 
of  the  letter  or  combination  of  letters  which  represent  it,  as  is  usual  in  the 
schools.  The  book  also  contains  rules  for  every  species  of  modulation  and 
intonation  of  the  voice,  and  of  time,  in  reading,  speaking,  and  singing. 

It  contains  remarks  on  stammering,  and  rules  for  curing  it;  and  practical 
lessons  in  reading  and  speaking,  consisting  of  selections  in  prose  and  verse, 
printed  with  different  characters,  to  denote  the  proper  modulations.  It  also 
contains  plates,  representing  every  variety  of  attitude  and  gesture  required 

good  speaking. 


„ 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  25 

This  mast  be  a  valuable  work  to  those  who  would  learn  to  read  or  speak 
well,  and  especially  to  those  afflicted  with  stammering  or  other  impedimenta 
of  speech.  It  is  useless  to  dilate  upon  the  importance  of  elocution  to  all 
who  have  occasion  to  read  or  speak  to  others.  To  lawyers,  legislators,  cler- 
gymen, and  speakers  in  public  meetings,  it  is  particularly  important;  for 
though  to  intelligent  and  well  informed  minds,  the  graces  of  manner  add 
nothing  to  the  force  of  argument,  they  are  exceedingly  important  in  securing 
an  attentive  hearing.  An  indifferent  sermon,  if  well  preached,  will  produce 
great  effect,  while  one  of  the  highest  order,  badly  delivered,  will  be  lost  upon 
a  great  portion  of  the  audience.  This  is  entirely  because  the  first  secures 
the  attention  of  its  hearers,  and  thereby  enables  every  argument  or  illustra- 
tion to  reach  their  understandings;  while  the  second  is  not  understood, 
because  not  heard. 

We  recommend  Dr.  Comstock's  book  to  every  person  who  would  wish  to 
speak  or  read  well. 


From  the  Herald  and  Sentinel,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  11,  1837 
COMSTOCK'S  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION. 

Dr.  COMSTOCK  has  been  long  and  favourably  known  in  this  city  as  a 
teacher  of  elocution.  The  art  of  public  speaking  is  a  common  attainment; 
but  the  art  of  speaking  effectively,  powerfully,  and  well,  by  a  proper  disci- 
pline  of  voice,  gesture  and  action,  is  no  easy  acquisition.  The  voice  is  a 
great  instrument  of  influence.  Some  orators  who  have  been  "  vox  et  pra- 
terea  nihil"  by  means  of  a  good  voice  alone,  have  been  able  to  exercise  an 
astonishing  sway  over  their  auditors.  The  full  developement  of  the  vocal 
organs  should  be  a  primary  exercise  with  all  ambitious  for  the  honours  of 
successful  orators,  and  we  know  of  no  better  disciplinarian  in  these  matters 
than  Dr.  Comstock.  The  work  before  us,  entitled  "  Practical  Elocution,"  is 
an  expose  of  his  principles  of  teaching,  and  will  serve  as  an  instructive 
manual  to  those  studying  his  method.  It  is  better  calculated,  however,  as  a 
manual  for  his  pupils,  than  for  students  in  general.  It  shows  great  skill  and 
industry,  and  is  highly  creditable  to  the  knowledge  and  research  of  the 
author. 


From  Atkinson's  Saturday  Evening  Post,  Dec.  16,  1837. 

Dr.  ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  of  this  city,  has  published  a  second  edition  of  a 
work  entitled  "Practical  Elocution,"  of  which  he  is  the  author.  There  are 
few  subjects  which  receive  less,  while  its  importance  demands  a  greater 
share  of  attention,  than  this  of  Elocution.  Every  organ  of  the  human  body 
is  dependent  on  exercise  for  its  true  and  proper  developement.  There  are 
<ew  persons  who  do  not  feel  the  embarrassment  which  arises  from  an  imper 
33* 


26  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

feet  enunciation.  The  work  before  us  conveys  much  valuable  instruction  on 
this  subject.  To  render  the  doctrine  it  communicates  more  evident,  the 
different  movements  of  the  voice  are  illustrated  by  original  diagrams.  Dr. 
Cornstock  has  for  some  years  been  a  successful  teacher  of  Elocution,  and  in 
his  experience  has  found  the  exercises  in  these  diagrams  happily  adapted  to 
render  the  muscles  of  speech  subject  to  volition,  to  extend  the  compass  of 
the  voice  and  increase  its  power. 


From  the  American  Weekly  Messenger,  Dec.  20,  1837. 

Dr.  COMSTOCK  is  well  known  in  this  city  as  a  practical  teacher  of  Elocu- 
tion. His  experience  with  his  classes  has  given  him  great  advantages  m  the 
preparation  of  this  volume,  which  appears  to  be  complete,  so  far  as  diagrams, 
marks  expressive  of  the  pronunciation  of  words,  and  minute  practical  direc- 
tions, can  render  it  so.  To  those  persons  who  are  so  unfortunate  as  to  have 
contracted  a  habit  of  stammering,  and  to  foreigners  who  wish  to  acquire  a 
correct  pronunciation  of  our  language,  this  volume  will  prove  an  invaluable 
acquisition.  Students  in  oratory  may  consult  the  figures  illustrative  of  ges- 
ture with  advantage ;  and  teachers  of  reading  and  declamation  should  not 
consider  their  libraries  complete  without  this  volume. 


From  the  Daily  Focus,  Philadelphia,  April  17,  1838. 

COMSTOCK'S  PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION  :  Published  by  Kay  Sf  Brother,  122,  Chea» 

nut  Street. 

We  have  received  a  very  handsome  edition  of  the  above  work,  which  we 
cheerfully  recommend  to  young  men,  as  a  valuable  assistant  in  the  study  of 
true  oratory.  The  work  is  illustrated  with  a  number  of  plates  representing 
the  proper  position  of  the  mouth  in  pronouncing,  and  also  the  most  graceful 
and  natural  attitudes  and  gestures  of  the  limbs  and  body,  in  order  to  give 
full  force  and  expression  to  language. 

Dr.  Comstock  has,  in  the  book  before  us,  proved  himself  abundantly  quali- 
fied to  teach  the  oral  developement  of  thought,  and  we  therefore  wish  he 
may  continue  his  labours,  and  have  large  classes  of  pupils. 


MISCELLANEOUS  RECOMMENDATIONS. 


From  the  Public  Ledger,  Philadelphia,  February  27, 1838. 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

We  observe,  by  a  notice  among  our  list  of  business  cards  this  morning, 
Umt  the  residence  of  Dr.  Comstock,  whose  success  in  the  cure  of  impedimenta 
in  the  speech,  and  improvement  in  elocution  and  address  of  his  pupils,  we 
believe  is  unsurpassed  by  any  instructor  in  the  country,  is  at  100  Arch  Street. 
Dr.  C.  possesses  a  double  advantage  over  most  of  his  profession,  in  his  tho- 
rough acquaintance  with  the  physical,  as  well  as  mental,  capacity  of  hia" 
fellow  man.  The  fourth  exhibition  of  his  class  of  young  ladies  and  gentle- 
men,  will  be  given  this  evening,  at  the  Commissioners'  Hall,  Southwark, 
where,  in  addition  to  their  various  recitations,  a  lecture  will  be  delivered  by 
the  Rev.  Jacob  M.  Douglass. 

From  the  Saturday  Courier,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  15,  1838. 

Mr.  John  Taylor,  of  Hinsdale,  N.  H.,  was  the  other  morning  in  our  study 
and  exhibited  the  wonderful  improvement  made  by  eleven  weeks'  residence 
with  Dr.  Comstock.  He  told  us  he  had  been  all  his  life  dreadfully  troubled 
with  an  impediment  of  speech ;  but  he  read  to  us  with  the  most  perfect  ease 
and  freedom.  We  take  pleasure  in  recording  such  cases  for  the  benefit  of 
others. 

From  the  Daily  Buffalo  Journal,  (N.  F.,)  March  27, 1839. 
PRACTICAL  ELOCUTION— A  REMEDY  FOR  STAMMERING. 

DR.  COMSTOCK,  of  Philadelphia,  has  acquired  great  fame,  both  as  a  teacher 
of  elocution,  and  as  a  successful  practitioner  in  removing  all  defects  in  speech. 

The  voice  is  produced  by  muscular  contraction,  and  hence  depends  wholly 
on  the  power  of  the  muscles,  which  propel  the  air  through  the  vocal  organs, 
and  modulate  the  same,  for  the  strength,  compass,  distinctness,  or  confusion 
of  the  various  sounds  emitted  in  speaking  or  singing. 

Dr.  Comstock  has  investigated  this  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  and  pointed 
out,  in  a  clear  and  scientific  manner,  the  cause  of  stammering,  and  other  de- 
fects of  speech,  in  his  work  on  Practical  Elocution,  (which  has  been  some 
years  before  the  public ;)  and  has  opened  a  school  in  Philadelphia  for  teaching 
elocution,  and  removing  defects  in  speech,  upon  philosophical  principles. 


28  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

A  late  number  of  the  World,  published  in  the  city  of  brotherly  love,  con. 
tains  a  very  commendatory  notice  of  the  eminent  ability  and  success  which 
attend  the  labours  of  this  learned  and  indefatigable  practitioner,  in  an  im- 
portant branch  of  science,  to  the  investigation  of  which  his  whole  life  has 
been  devoted.  Knowing  well  the  history  of  this  gentleman,  and  having  once 
enjoyed  the  honour  of  a  personal  acquaintance,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  recom- 
mend his  school  as  possessing  the  highest  claims  to  public  confidence. 


Extract  from  the  Lyceum  Report,  published  in  the  World,  Philadel- 
phia, June  19,  1839. 

At  4i  o'clock  the  meeting  was  called  to  order,  and  a  lecture  delivered  on 
Elocution,  by  Dr.  Comstock,  and  an  interesting  exhibition  by  his  class,  several 
of  whom  had  been  inveterate  stammerers ;  one  in  particular,  a  married  gen- 
tleman from  the  east,  (who  said  he  had  to  do  his  courting  by  signs,)  spoke  so 
well,  after  only  six  weeks'  instruction,  as  to  prove  Dr.  C.'s  teaching  completely 
effectual. 

Half-past  5  o'clock,  the  company,  in  fine  health  and  spirits,  adjourned. 

G.  W.  WOOLLEY,  Secretary,  pro.  tern. 


From  the  United  States  Gazette,  June  29,  1839. 

Sometime  since,  Dr  Comstock  called  on  us  with  a  person  from  Vermont, 
who  had  applied  to  him  to  be  cured  of  stammering ;  he  certainly  needed  help. 
Yesterday,  the  Doctor  and  his  patient  called  on  us  again ;  the  latter  talked 
and  read  as  fluently  as  any  person  we  ever  saw.  The  person  to  whom  we 
refer,  mentioned  that  he  should  now  go  home,  and  talk  with  a  near  relation, 
to  whom  he  had  never  spoken,  as  she  was  rather  deaf,  and  he  had  stammered 
so  abominably  as  to  be  wholly  unable  to  make  her  comprehend  him. 


From  the  Village  Record,  West  Chester,  Penn.,  September  10,  1839. 
STAMMERING  AND  ELOCUTION. 

From  numerous  testimonials  of  the  success  of  DR.  COMSTOCK,  of  Philadel- 
phia, in  improving  the  voice,  particularly  of  Stammerers,  we  sometime  since 
selected  the  following  from  a  Philadelphia  paper,  for  presentation  to  our 
readers.  To  those  afflicted  with  an  impediment  of  the  speech,  all  discoveries, 
or  efficient  modes  for  amending  the  vocal  organs,  must  be  matter  of  peculiar 
interest.  We  have  repeatedly  visited  the  institution  of  Dr.  C.,  and  have  seen 
numerous  instances  of  improvement  no  less  striking  than  the  one  referred  to 
below.  Dr.  C.  is  unremitting  in  his  attention  to  his  pupils ;  exact  in  his  ex- 
position of  the  principles  of  elocution  ;  and  affords  to  his  pupils  a  wide  range 
*br  practice.  As  a  teacher,  he  commands  the  respect  of  his  pupils,  while  his 
gentlemanly  deportment  towards  them  is  sure  to  win  their  permanent  esteem. 
His  office  is  at  No.  100  Arch  Street,  Philadelphia. 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  29 

"  M*  CHARLES  R.  READ,  from  Vermont,  called  upon  us,  and  read  as  fluently 
as  any  one.  Eight  weeks  since  we  conversed  with  the  same  gentleman,  and 
he  could  not  articulate  a  sentence  without  stammering  badly.  He  had  been 
afflicted  from  his  infancy.  His  mother  stammered,  and  he  has  a  sister  who 
is  also  subject  to  the  same  infirmity.  Mr.  Read  tells  us  he  intends  to  send 
her  to  the  care  of  Dr.  Comstock,  who  has  been  so  successful  in  his  own  case. 
We  look  upon  it  as  doing  stammerers  a  kindness,  by  constantly  keeping  them 
advised  of  such  important  facts." — Saturday  Courier. 


From  the  Philadelphia  Gazelle,  October  5,  1839. 
VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

We  attended  an  exhibition  of  DR.  COMSTOCK'S  class  of  stammerers  last 
evening,  at  the  Temperance  Hall,  N.  L.,  and  were  much  pleased  with  the 
exercises.  We  believe  that  Dr.  C.'s  system  is  well  calculated  to  accomplish 
the  very  desirable  relief  so  much  needed  by  those  afflicted  with  a  hesitancy 
of  speech.  One  individual,  who  had  been  under  tuition  but  nine  days,  gave 
ample  testimony  of  the  efficiency  of  the  system. 


From  the  Pennsylvania  Inquirer,  Philadelphia,  Nov.  22,  1839. 
A  STAMMERER  CURED. 

We  were  called  upon  yesterday  by  a  gentleman  of  Bradford  county,  Pa., 
thirty -seven  years  of  age,  who,  until  within  a  month,  had  been  an  inveterate 
stammerer  from  childhood.  A  few  weeks  since,  however,  he  was  induced  to 
place  himself  under  the  care  of  Doctor  Comstock,  of  this  city,  who  speedily 
effected  a  perfect  cure.  The  gentleman  called  upon  us  to  illustrate  the  excel- 
lence  of  the  system,  in  his  own  case ;  and,  also,  with  the  object  of  making 
some  public  acknowledgment  of  the  great  and  important  benefit  that  had 
been  conferred.  He  spoke  with  ease  and  fluency,  and  recited  one  or  two 
passages  of  poetry,  with  taste  and  discrimination.  Those  of  our  citizens, 
however,  who  desire  the  most  satisfactory  evidence  of  the  effects  of  this  sys- 
tem, are  invited  to  visit  the  Musical  Fund  Hall,  on  Monday  evening  next, 
when  Dr.  Comstock  and  his  class  of  stammerers  will  give  a  variety  of  exer- 
cises and  recitations. 


From  the  Public  Ledger,  November  25,  1839. 

Dr.  Comstock's  exhibition  of  Vocal  Gymnastics  takes  place  at  the  Musical 
Fund  Hall,  this  evening,  November  25,  at  half-past  seven  o'clock. — It  gives 
us  pleasure  to  recommend  the  Doctor's  system  of  instruction,  which,  after 
cool  examination,  we  believe  to  be  excellent  and  unrivalled.  The  perform, 
ances  of  his  pupils,  who  were  formerly  stammerers,  are  truly  astonishing. — 
Let  every  one  judge  for  himself.  We  were  pleased  to  see  his  former  exhibi- 
tion, at  Temperance  Hall,  attended  by  a  crowd  of  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

35 


SO  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  North  American,  Philadelphia,  March  19,  1840. 
Dr.  COMSTOCK  left  with  us  yesterday  for  exhibition,  one  of  his  charts  repre- 
senting the  mouth  in  every  form  and  position  which  it  seems  to  be  enabled 
to  assume  in  the  enunciation  of  sounds.  Attached  to  it  are  scales  for  the 
modulation  of  the  voice,  which  are  of  great  service  to  the  student.  The  sue- 
cess  which  has  attended  Dr.  Comstock's  instructions,  has  been  of  the  most 
striking  character. 


From  the  Philadelphia  Crazette,  March  21,  1840. 
Dr.  COMSTOCK,  elocutionist  of  this  city,  has  published  a  large  chart,  mount- 
ed on  rollers  and  varnished,  entitled  "  A  Table  of  the  Elements  of  the  Eng- 
lish Language."  This  table  condenses,  as  it  were,  the  instruction  of  a  half 
years'  study,  in  the  useful  and  requisite  art  of  elocution.  It  should1  be  hung 
up  in  the  library  of  every  orator,  or  every  one  who  would  be  an  orator,  whe- 
ther of  the  Pulpit  or  the  Bar.  If  one  is  naturally  an  orator,  it  will  assist  in 
developing  those  powers;  if  he  is  not,  an  assiduous  study  of  the  chart  will 
make  him  one.  Pebbles  helped  DEMOSTHENES,  until  the  wide  round  world 
was  vocal  with  his  name ;  and  why  should  not  a  map  of  mounted  eloquence 
do  the  same,  to  some  one  in  the  nineteenth  century  ? 

From  the  Pennsylvanian,  March  24,  1840. 

ELOCUTION. — Dr.  Comstock,  of  this  city,  has  published  a  large  chart  mount- 
ed upon  rollers,  entitled  "  A  Table  of  the  Elements  of  the  English  Language." 
This  Table  gives,  in  a  condensed  form,  and  as  it  were,  at  a  single  view,  the 
principles  upon  which  Dr.  Comstock's  system  of  instruction  in  elocution  is 
founded,  and  as  he  is  eminently  successful  in  making  good  speakers,  and  in 
curing  defects  in  articulation,  the  chart  will  doubtless  be  found  very  service- 
able both  to  his  pupils  and  to  others. 

From  the  Inquirer,  Philadelphia,  March  30,  1840. 
Dr.  COMSTOCK'S  TABLE. — Dr.  Andrew  Comstock,  of  this  city,  has  published 
a  Table  of  the  Elements  of  the  English  Language,  which  appears  to  us  ad- 
mirably suited  to  facilitate  boys  in  their  exercises  of  reading  and  improve- 
ment of  gesticulation.  For  stammerers,  and  those  affected  with  impediments 
of  speech,  it  possesses  great  merit.  Indeed,  the  chart  is  particularly  calcu 
lated  for  schools,  and  embodies,  in  a  single  sheet,  an  entire  system,  very  sim- 
ple in  its  operation,  and  the  result  of  years  of  labour.  Dr.  Comstock  has  de- 
servedly acquired  much  reputation,  in  Philadelphia,  as  a  successful  teachei 
in  the  particular  branch  to  which  he-  devotes  his  attention. 

From  the  United  States  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  April  15,  1840. 

Dr.  COMSTOCK  has  issued  a  large  sheet,  containing  the  Elements  of  the 
English  Language,  with  illustrations  of  the  mode  of  uttering  simple  and  com- 
pound sounds,  figures  exemplifying  the  gestures  for  certain  recitations,  and 
mots  or  notes  for  the  pitch  and  government  of  the  voice  in  reading ;  the  lat 
ter  in  accordance  with  Dr.  Rush's  system  of  the  human  voice. 

Dr.  Comstock  has  been  eminently  successful  as  a  teacher  of  elocution,  be 
cause  he  teaches  radically  ;  and,  as  a  curer  of  stuttering,  we  believe  Dr.  C 
has  never  been  excelled. 


RECOMMENDATIONS.  31 

From  the  World,  Philadelphia,  March  20,  1839. 

DR  COMSTOCK. — We  have  received^  from  the  author  a  small  pamphlet,  con- 
taining a  Lecture  on  Elocution,  with  remarks  on  stammering,  delivered  before 
the  American  Lyceum  in  this  city,  on  the  6th  of  May,  1837,  by  Dr.  Com- 
stock.  He  is  well  known  in  this  city,  as  remarkably  successful  in  the  cure 
of  all  defects  in  speech,  and  also  for  teaching  elocution  upon  philosophical 
principles.  His  school  contains  pupils  from  various  and  distant  parts  of  the 
country,  resorting  to  him  for  the  cure  of  stammering  and  other  vocal  defects. 

He  h»  o  published  a  work  on  Practical  Elocution,  the  perusal  of  which  will 
show  that  his  lessons  are  important  to  others  besides  those  afflicted  with 
stammering;  for  all  public  speakers,  whether  lawyers,  preachers  or  politicians, 
will  derive  advantages  from  observing  his  rules.  The  voice,  like  any  other 
part  of  the  system  connected  with  voluntary  muscular  action,  is  susceptible 
of  cultivation.  It  is  regulated  by  a  very  complicated  system  of  muscles,  and 
must  therefore  be  more  or  less  under  command,  in  proportion  to  the  control 
of  the  individual  over  these  muscles.  Why  are  the  muscles  of  a  blacksmith's 
striking  arm  larger  than  those  of  his  holding  arm  ?  Because  they  are  more 
exercised.  Why  have  porters,  stage  drivers,  and  those  whose  legs  are  most 
exercised,  larger  femoral  and  crural  muscles,  than  people  of  sedentary  habits? 
For  the  same  reason.  Then  if  one  set  of  muscles  is  improved  by  cultiva- 
tion, so  may  be  another ;  and  therefore,  as  the  voice  is  regulated  by  mus- 
cular action,  it  must  necessarily  be  improved  by  proper  exercise. 

This  theory,  which,  as  every  anatomist  knows,  is  founded  on  fact,  explains 
the  whole  system  of  stammering  and  other  vocal  defects.  They  proceed  from 
paralysis,  weakness,  or  other  causes,  producing  want  of  control  over  the  vocal 
muscles.  Such  defects  in  the  leg  or  arm,  produce  lameness  in  these  limbs. 
Similar  defects  or  infirmities  in  the  vocal  muscles,  must  produce  lameness  of 
the  voice.  This  point  established,  the  indication  of  cure  is  obvious.  It  con- 
sists in  restoring  activity  to  the  vocal  muscles  by  exercise,  by  cultivation 
Singers  never  stammer,  and  stammering  is  often  cured  by  singing.  Why  ? 
Because  singing  gives  active  exercise  to  the  vocal  muscles.  But  it  will  not 
always  cure  stammering,  because  the  defect  may  be  in  certain  muscles 
which  singing  cannot  reach,  or  reach  with  sufficient  force.  To  supply  the 
deficiency,  we  need  the  professor  of  elocution,  who  understands  the  voice 
anatomically,  physiologically,  and  pathologically,  or  in  other  words,  who  un- 
derstands the  structure,  actions,  and  diseases  of  the  parts  of  the  human 
system  subservient  to  the  voice.  Dr.  Comstack  has  particularly  studied  this 
subject,  and  his  success  as  a  practitioner  proves  that  he  has  studied  it  faithfully. 


I  most  cheerfully  endorse  the  preceding  certificates  relative  to  Dr.  Com- 
stock's  success  in  removing  impediments  of  speech.  Having  spent  several 
weeks  in  his  Gymnasium,  for  the  purpose  of  improving  my  voice,  and  of 
removing  an  impediment  to  which  I  had  always  been  more  or  less  subject,  I 
am  able  to  speak  both  from  observation  and  experience.  I  consider  his  svstern 
of  vocal  gymnastics  eminently  fitted  to  accomplish  the  end  designed :  viz.  to 
bring  the  orgdns  of  speech,  by  a  thorough  cuurse  of  drilling,  entirely  under 
the  control  of  volition.  True  it  is,  that  much  energy  and  perseverance, 
as  well  as  time  and  patience,  are  necessary  on  the  part  of  the  afflicted  in 
order  to  be  entirely  relieved.  But  I  am  confident  that  where  there  is  no 
rnal-formation  of  the  vocal  organs,  an  entire  cure  may  be  effected. 

F.  W.  FISK. 

Philadelphia,  Avril  27«A,  1840. 


32  RECOMMENDATIONS. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier,  April  3,  1841. 
CURE  OF  STAMMERING. 

Two  young  gentlemen  called  in  our  sanctum  the  other  morning,  and  we 
had  a  pleasant  conversation  with  them  on  the  extraordinary  benefit  they  had 
derived  from  having  been  a  few  weeks  in  the  Vocal  Gymnasium  of  Dr.  Corn- 
stock.  One  of  them,  John  Scribner,  jr.,  is  from.  Poplin,  N.  H.  He  told  us, 
that  fourteen  weeks  ago  he  could  not  converse  at  all  without  stammering  in 
the  pronunciation  of  almost  e*ery  word.  He  conversed  with  us  the  morning 
we  saw  him,  as  fluently  as  Daniel  Webster  or  Mr.  Forsyth  could ;  and  we 
should  say  his  friends  will  be  delighted  to  hold  converse  with  him  on  his  re- 
turn  to  the  salubrious  atmosphere  of  the  "  Granite  State."  The  other  young 
gentleman  is  Mr.  William  H.  Cornell,  of  Clinton,  New  York.  He  is  eighteen 
years  old,  and  had  been  a  stammerer  all  his  life,  until  Dr.  Comstock  had  the 
gratification  of  receiving  him  under  his  discipline  of  the  vocal  powers.  He 
has  been  there  but  four  weeks,  and  conversed  with  us  with  very  little  impedi- 
ment of  speech  ;  and  by  the  first  of  May,  when  he  proposes  to  return  to  the 
beautiful  region  of  Dutchess  county,  he  will  be  able  to  descant  upon  the 
sweets  of  the  "  buds  and  the  flowers  "  with  as  much  buoyancy  of  speech  as 
the  most  lovely  young  damsel  around  his  romantic  home.  We  are  happy  in 
stating  such  cases,  for  the  encouragement  of  others  in  distant  portions  of  the 
country,  who  may  be  labouring  under  the  painful  difficulties  which  impedi. 
ments  of  speech  impose. 

From  the  National  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  Nov.  17,  1841. 
A  STAMMERER  CURED. 

PHILADELPHIA,  Nov.  10, 1841. 

Messrs.  EDITORS — For  nearly  twenty  years  I  was  an  inveterate  stammerer. 
The  habit  was  contracted  when  I  was  four  years  old,  in  consequence  of  the 
severe  treatment  of  a  schoolmaster.  Being  anxious  to  have  a  cure  effected,  if 
possible,  but  almost  despairing,  I  placed  myself,  six  weeks  ago,  under  the 
care  of  Dr.  Andrew  Comstock  of  this  city,  and  the  result  has  been  a  most 
happy  one.  Since  the  third  day  after  I  entered  his  Vocal  Gymnasium,  I  have 
been  able  to  converse  with  friends  and  strangers,  without  any  impediment 
whatever.  I  unhesitatingly  recommend  all  who  stammer  to  make  a  trial  of 
Dr.  C.'s  mode  of  treatment.  It  is  founded  on  philosophical  principles,  and  I 
feel  confident,  if  persevered  in,  will  always  produce  the  same  beneficial  results 
as  my  own  case.  I  shall  reside,  during  the  winter,  at  No.  200  Arch  Street, 
where  I  shall  be  happy  to  receive  a  visit  from  any  one  who  may  desire  far- 
ther information  on  the  subject.  Respectfully, 

LEVI  S.  YATES,  of  Williamston,  N.  C., 
Student  of  Medicine  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

From  the  Philadelphia  Saturday  Courier,  July  21,  1838. 

STAMMERERS. 

WE  notice  as  an  interesting  fact,  that  C.  H.  J.  Pieman,  Esq.,  (a  young  gentleman  who 
was  recently  in  our  office,  while  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Comstock.  for  stammering,)  de- 
livered the  oration  at  Cumberland,  Md.,  on  the  4th  instant.  ]t  was  a  clear  and  distinct 
performance,  and  was  well  received  by  a  large  auditory.  A  copy  in  print  has  been  re- 
ceived hy  us.  The  Civilian  of  that  place  remarks,  that  the  enunciation  of  Mr.  Pigmaa 
is  so  clear,  that  if  it  had  not  previously  been  known  that  he  had  laboured  severely  under 
an  impediment,  none  who  hear  him  speak  would  be  aware  that  he  had  ever  been  troubled 
with  such  a  difficulty.  Mr.  Pigmau  and  his  friends  (who  are  highly  respectable),  unite 
in  bestowing  great  credit  upon  the  scientific  skill  of  Dr.  Comstock.  We  think  we  do 
unfortunate  stammerers  a  kindness  by  commending  this  gentleman  to  their  consideration 


THE 


PHONETIC  READER: 


CONSISTING  OF 


A  SELECTION  OF  PIECES, 

CLASSICAL  AND  MORAL, 

IN    PROSE    AND    VERSE, 
IN  BOTH  THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  ALPHABET; 


TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 

A  SYSTEM  OF  VOCAL  GYMNASTICS. 

DESIGNED 

FOR    SCHOOLS,  AS  WELL   AS  FOR    INDIVIDUALS,  WHETHER  NA 

TIVES  OR  FOREIGNERS,  WHO  WISH  TO  ACQUIRE  THE  TRUE 

PRONUNCIATION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


BY  ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.D. 

PRINCIPAL   OF   THE   VOCAL  AND   POLYQLOTT   GYMNASIUM,    AUTHOR   Of 
A    SYSTEM   OF   ELOCUTION,   ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PUBLISHED  BY  E.  H.  BUTLER  &  CO. 

1847. 


A  PHONETIC  ALPHABET  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE, 


BY  ANDREW   COMSTOCK.   M.  D. 


IN  the  following  Table  there  is  a  character  for  each  of  the  38  ele- 
mentary sounds  of  the  English  Language.  For  the  sake  of  brevity, 
there  are  also  6  compound  letters,  each  to  be  used,  in  particular  instances, 
to  represent  two  elementary  sounds. 


THE  38  SIMPLE  LETTERS. 

15  Vowels. 

14  Subvowels. 

9  Aspirates. 

E   e 

ale 

B  b 

bow 

P     p 

pit 

A    a 

arm 

D  d 

day 

T  t 

tin 

Q    o 

all 

J  j 

a^ure 

C   c 

shade 

A   a 

an 

G  g 

9*Y 

K  k 

kite 

I    i 

eve 

Z      Z 

2-one 

S   s 

sin 

E    s 

end 

V   v 

vile 

F   f 

fame 

I    i 

He 

A   6 

then 

0  a 

thin 

I    i 

^n 

L    1 

Zight 

H  h 

hut 

Q     G) 

old 

R  r 

roll 

Q  q 

what 

^     8 

lose 

M  m 

met 

O   o 

on 

N  n 

no 

11     LI 

twbe 

JJ   i] 

song 

U  u 

up 

Ww 

rvo 

U    IT 

full 

Y  y 

yoke 

0    (p 

out 

THE  6   COMPOUND    LETTERS. 

a  a 

oil 

JO  cj 

^'ob 

T3  6 

etch 

0      8 

air 

Q  2 

tug's 

X  x 

oaks 

LXURSIZIZ  IN  VQKAL  JDIMNASTXKS. 

Furst  Lxursiz. 


e 


a 


Ee 
Aa 
Oo 
Aa 
X  x 
LE 
I  i 

I  z 

Qo 

Oo 

II  u 
Uu 
Uu 

Ocp 


234 


/ 


B  b 
D  d 

J  J 
Gg 
Z  z 
V  v 

A  5 

L    1 

R  r 

Mm 

N  n 

IJq 

Ww 

Yy 


e?  t 


T  t 
C  c 
Kk 
S  s 
F  f 
0  a 
Hh 
Qq 


Go 
80 


Xx 


22 


VOK&L 


Sekund 
E     a    o    a   |  x    c  |  i    x|o    8    o|u    u    u  |  (p.  || 

Be  ba  bo  ba  |  bx  be  |  bi  bx  |  bo  bs  bo  |  bu  bu  bu  |  bcp.|| 
De  da  do  da  |  dx  de  |  di  dx  |  do  ds  do  |  dii  du  du  |  dcp.|| 

Ge  ga  go  ga  |  gx  gs  |  gi  gx  |  go  g8  go  |  gir  gu  gu  |  gcp.|| 


Ve  va  vo  va 
Ae  8a  80  8a 
Ze  za  zo  za 

vx  ve 

ZX  Z8 

Vi  VX  |  VO  V8  VO 

8i  8x  |  80  8s  80 

Zl  ZX  |  ZO  Z8   ZO 

VII  VU  VU  |  VCp.|| 

8u  8u  8u  |  8q>.|| 
zir  zu  zu  |  zcp.|| 

Je  ja  jo  ja 

JX  J8 

jl  JX  |   JO  J8  JO 

F  ju  Ju  1  J<P-II 

Le  la  lo   la 

Ix  le  |  li  Ix  |  lo  18  lo 

lir  lu  lu  |  lcp.|| 

Re  ra  ro  ra 

rx  re 

ri  rx  |  ro  r8  ro 

rir  ru  ru  |  rqp.|| 

Me  ma  mo  ma 

mxme 

mi  mx|mtD  ms  mo 

mil  mu  mu|mq>.|| 

Ne  na  no  na 

nxne 

ni  nx  |  no  na  no 

nil  nu  nu  |  ncp.|| 

We  wa  wo  wa 

wxwe 

wi  WX|  WO  W8  WO 

WIT  WU  Wu|wCp.|| 

Ye  ya  yo  ya 

yxys 

yi  yx  j  yo  ys  yo 

yuyuyujycp.)! 

Pe  pa  po  pa  |  px  ps  |  pi  px  |  po  p8  po 

pu  pu  pu  |  pq>.|| 

Te  ta  to  ta 

tx  te 

ti  tx  |  to  ts  to 

tu  tu  tu  |  top.  || 

•Ce  6a  60  £a  |  6c  6s  |  6i  cx  |  60  6s  60 

6u  <*u  cu  |  c"(p.|| 

Ke  ka  ko  ka 

kxke 

ki  kx  |  ko  ka  ko 

kir  ku  ku  |  kcp.|| 

Fe  fa  fo  fa 

fxfe 

fi  fx  |  fo  fs  fo 

fij  fu  fu  |  %|| 

©e  da  do  da  |  dx  de 

di  dx  |  do  ds  do 

dir  du  du  |  dcp.|| 

Se  sa  so  sa 

sx  se 

si  sx  |  so  S8  so 

sir  su  su  |  scp.|| 

Ce  ca  co  ca 

cx  ce 

ci  cx  |  co  cs  co 

CIJ  CU   CU  |  CCp.|| 

He  ha  ho  ha  |  hx  he  |  hi  hx  |  ho  hs  ho 

hii  hu  hu  |  h(p.|| 

Qe  qa  qo  qa  |  qx  qs  |  qi  qx  |  qo  qs  qo  |  qu  qu  qu  |  q(p.|| 


PRACTICAL    ELOCUTION 


/  0     ^  / 

CM  &t>  wzvm&n  ifzem/ 


tuv-,  en 
twnt''n  ov- 


'<3/€/%  ob  /md  a&4  fia-vz  tiwn 

v<  4cm  / 


G/t/z  &&  aefcvta  v 
Q/&  t 


v 

i-— 


THE  END. 

D2 


EPITOME 
HISTOKIJE    SACEJ1, 

ON 

AN   IMPROVED    PLAN, 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES: 

THE   FIRST   CONTAINING  THE  ORIGINAL  TEXT  IN  THE  ENGLISH   ORDER   OF 
CONSTRUCTION,    WITH   THE   ELLIPTICAL   SENTENCES   RENDERED 
PLENARY,    WITH   THE  MARKS   OF   QUANTITY,  AND    OF 
ACCENT,    AND   WITH   A   LITERAL  INTER- 
LINEAR TRANSLATION  J 

THE   SECOND    CONTAINING   THE  ORIGINAL   TEXT  SIMPLY,    IN   THE 
LATIN   ORDER  OF   CONSTRUCTION  : 

THE   WHOLE 

•O   PRESENTED    THAT  THE   ACQUISITION   OF   THE   LATIN    IS   NOT   ONLY 
&REATLY  FACILITATED,    BUT   RENDERED    MUCH  MORE  INTER- 
ESTING THAN    BY   THE  USUAL  METHOD. 

DESIGNED  AS  A  PRIMARY  BOOK. 

•syv^-w. 

BY 

ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.D. 

FKINCIPAL  OF  THE    VOCAL   AND   POLYGLOTT  GYMNASIUM,   AUTHOR  OF 
A  SYSTEM   OF  ELOCUTION,    ETC. 

VOLUME  I. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED  BY  E.  H.  BUTLER  &  CO. 

1849. 


EPITOME 
HISTORIC    SACRJ], 


AD 


METHODUM  ORNATIOREM, 


IN  DUOBUS  TOMIS: 

PRIMO  TBXTUM  PRIMORDIUM   IN  ORDINE  VERBALI  ANGLICO  CONSTRFCTTJJI 
PERIODIS   ELLIPTICTS   IMPLETIS,    FROSODLE  ACCENTUSQUE  SIGNIS 
ADJUNCTIS,   TRANSLATIONEMQUE  INTERLINEAREM 
AD   LITERAM   COMPREHENDENTE  J 

SECUNDO  TEITUM   PRIMORDITJM  CONTINENTS  SOLTJM,    ORDIWK 

LATINO  RELATUM: 


ITA    PARATA   AD  ADEPTIONEM   LATINJB   LINGUA,    NON   SOLUM   PACILIOR] 
8ED   ETIA.M   GRATIOREM   QUAM  METHODO   SOLITA,    CONSTITUENDAM. 

DESTINATA    TIRONIBUS. 


CURAVIT  * 

ANDEEAS  COMSTOCK,  M.D. 

PRJBFECTUS   GYMNASII   VOCALIS   ET  POLYGLOTTI,   AUCTO      OPUU8 
DE  ELOCUTIONS,   ETCETERA. 


TOMUS  II. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
EDIDIT  E.    H.   BUTLER  ET   SO, 

MDCCCXLY. 


DR.  COMSTOCK'S 
VOCAL  AND  POLYGLOT!  GYMNASIUM, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


THIS  INSTITUTION  is  designed,  not  only  for  the  CURE  OF  STAM- 
MERING, and  DEFECTIVE  ARTICULATION, — for  INSTRUCTION  IN  ELO- 
CUTION and  the  USUAL  BRANCHES  OF  AN  ENGLISH  EDUCATION,  but 
for  the  acquisition  of  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  most  important 
ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  LANGUAGES.  The  following  Languages  are 
now  taught : 

1.  LATIN,  6.  GERMAN,  9.  TURKISH? 

2.  ANCIENT  GREEK,        6.  SPANISH,  10.  ARMENIAN, 

3.  MODERN  GREEK,         7.  GAELIC,  11.  HEBREW, 

4.  FRENCH,  8.  ITALIAN,  12.  HINDOOSTANEE. 

The  method  of  instruction  here  pursued  is,  in  the  main,  peculiar 
to  this  Institution.  Much  of  it  is  oral  and  practical.  All  the  les- 
sons, both  in  foreign  languages,  and  in  English,  (not  even  excepting 
English  Grammar  and  Orthography)  are  first  pronounced  by  the 
teacher,  and  repeated  by  the  pupil,  till  the  latter  understands  the 
true  import,  and  the  correct  pronunciation  and  intonation  of  every 
word.  The  pupil  then  prepares  himself  by  silent  study,  or  by 
practising  aloud  in  his  room,  for  a  thorough  recitation.  This  me- 
thod possesses  several  obvious  advantages  : 

1.  Knowledge  is  much  more  rapidly  acquired. 

2.  As  the  pupil  learns  every  thing  correctly  in  the  first  instance, 
he  never  has  an£  thing  to  unlearn. 

3.  As  the  pupil  understands  the  leading  principles  at  the  incep- 
tive stage  of  each  lesson,  he  is  not  dispirited,  but  rather  encouraged. 

In  this  Institution,  particular  attention  is  paid  to  PHILOLOGY. 
The  principal  teacher  in  this  department,  not  only  composes  readily 
in  English,  French,  Italian,  Greek,  and  Turkish,  but  he  converses 
fluently  in  all  these  languages. 

The  method  of  teaching  the  Latin  is  that  pursued  in  the  Italian 
Universities.  By  adopting  this  course  the  pupil  is  better  prepared 
to  study  the  Italian  and  other  languages  derived  from  the  Latin. 

The  Ancient  Greek  is  taught  according  to  the  system  adopted 
in  the  University  of  Otho,  at  Athens.  By  this  method  both  the 
ancient  and  modern  dialects  are  acquired  at  the  same  time.  This 
plan  is  now  used  in  the  Universities  of  Germany. 

0) 


fi  VOCAL  AND  POLYGLOTT  GYMNASIUM. 

The  method  of  teaching  the  French  renders  the  study  of  it  more 
like  pastime  than  labour.  They  who  study  this  language  are  re- 
quired to  use  it  in  their  colloquial  intercourse,  both  in  the  family 
and  in  the  school. 

The  Turkish  is  taught  in  the  method  followed  by  the  Hodjas  of 
Stamboul — that  of  oral  exercises.  The  pupil  is  immediately  ini- 
tiated into  the  harmonic  system  of  its  suffixes,  by  which  the  words 
are  speedily  memorized.  No  other  language  can  be  learned  so 
rapidly ;  because  the  Turkish  possesses  a  uniformity  in  its  gramma- 
tical structure,  which  facilitates  its  acquisition.  This  language, 
which  is  enriched  by  words  drawn  ad  libitum  from  the  Arabic,  and 
the  Persian,  is  founded  on  a  regular  system  of  declensions.  It  is 
variegated  by  affixes  to  a  greater  extent  than  most  other  languages. 
The  different  terminations  convey  delicate  shades  of  thought.  A 
knowledge  of  this  language  prepares  the  pupil  for  the  acquisition 
of  most  of  the  spoken  languages  of  Asia.  The  Turkish  will  not 
fail  to  be  a  matter  of  curiosity  to  the  lover  of  Oriental  literature. 

The  school  year  commences  on  the  first  Thursday  in  September, 
and  terminates  on  the  last  Wednesday  in  June. 

TERMS. 
For  instruction,  with  boarding, '. $400 

Tickets  per  Course  of  10  Weeks  instruction,  {without  boarding) 

in  Classes, 
For  the  Cure  of  Stammering,  15  lessons  per  week, .    .  .  $50 

In  Elocution 6  lessons  per  week, ...    20 

In  Languages, 6  lessons  per  week, ...    20 

In  Elocution, 3  lessons  per  week, ...     10 

In  Languages, 3  lessons  per  week,.   .  .     10 

O^Five  Dollars  per  week  additional  if  the  pupil  resides  in  the 
family. 

Tickets  per  Course  for  Private  Instruction. 

In  Elocution, 36  lessons, $30 

In  Languages, 36  lessons, 30 

The  ticket  in  each  case  to  be  paid  for  in  advance.  Satisfactory 
references  will  be  given  in  the  principal  cities  throughout  the 
Union. 

O^rNo  one  can  become  a  pupil  in  this  Institution,  who  is  not 
cleanly  in  his  person  and  habits,  and  gentlemanly  in  his  deport- 
ment 

(No  Member  of  the  Institution  is  allowed  to  use  Tobacco  in 
any  form.) 

Apply  to  ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D.,  Principal 

No.  100  Mulberry  Street,  Philadelphia. 


COMSTOCK'S  TABLE  OF  ELEMENTS. 

A.  TABLE  OF  THE  ELEMENTS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE,  to  which  are 
prefixed  Exercises  in  Pitch  and  Force.  By  Andrew  Comstock,  M.  D. 
No.  100  Mulberry  street,  Philadelphia.  (Fourth  Edition.)  Published 
by  the  Author. 

DESCRIPTION. — This  Table  is  in  the  form  of  a  map  mounted  on  rollers. 
It  is  four  feet  three  inches  in  length,  and  two  feet  five  inches  in  breadth. 
It  contains  the  Elements  of  the  English  Language,  and  the  most  import- 
ant  Exercises  in  Pitch  and  Force  found  in  the  Author's  SYSTEM  OF  ELO- 
CUTION. They  are  systematically  arranged,  and  printed  in  characters 
large  enough  to  be  read  at  the  distance  of  forty  or  fifty  feet.  The  chart 
also  contains  forty-eight  cuts,  showing  the  best  posture  of  the  mouth  in 
the  energetic  utterance  of  the  Elements.  It  is  designed  for  the  use  of 
colleges,  schools,  and  private  families.  Price,  $2. 

REMARKS. — The  scholars  in  every  school,  and,  indeed,  the  members  of 
every  family,  should  practise  daily  the  exercises  which  are  delineated 
upon  this  chart.  Children,  even  before  they  learn  the  alphabet,  should 
be  taught  to  utter  the  elements  of  the  language  with  precision.  The 
practice  of  these  exercises  produces  the  following  beneficial  results : 

1.  It  increases  the  strength  and  flexibility  of  all  the  muscles  concerned 
in  the  production  and  modification  of  vocal  sound. 

2.  It  enables  the  pupil,  in  reading,  speaking,  and  singing,  to  articulate 
perfectly. 

3.  It  enables  the  pupil  to  give  astonishing  force  and  fullness  to  his 
voice. 

4.  It  extends  the  compass  of  the  voice. 

5.  It  improves  the  ear — enabling  the  pupil  not  only  to  appreciate,  in 
the  voices  of  others,  but  to  execute  with  his  own,  the  various  modifica- 
tions of  pitch  and  force  so  important  in  the  correct  expression  of  oral 
language. 

6.  It  promotes  the  functions  of  the  lungs,  by  expanding  the  chest,  and 
invigorating  all  the  organs  which  constitute  the  respiratory  apparatus. 
During  the  exercise,  a  larger  amount  of  atmospheric  air  is  respired  than 
under  ordinary  circumstances ;  hence  the  lungs  are  enabled  more  effect- 
ually to  pump,  as  it  were,  the  deleterious  carbon  from  the  blood,  and 
return,  in  its  stead,  the  vivifying  oxygen. 


.  COMSTOCK  has  also  published  a  Chart,  (2  feet  9  inches  in 
length,  and  2  feet  1  inch  in  breadth,)  comprising  a  Perfect  Alphabet  of 
the  English  Language,  the  corresponding  Phonographic  characters  of 
Pitman,  and  Exercises  in  Gesture. 

(9) 


COMSTOCK'S 
SYSTEM  OF  ELOCUTION. 


RECOMMENDATORY  NOTICES. 

Certificates  from  Professor  Homer  and  Professor  Hare 
of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

HAVING  been  present  on  the  10th  inst.  at  the  exercises  of  the  pupils  in 
Dr.  Andrew  Comstock's  Gymnasium,  for  the  improvement  of  the  voice 
and  of  the  articulation  in  stammyerers  and  others,  the  impression  made 
upon  me  was  highly  favourable  to  his  method  of  instruction. 

The  system  is  founded  upon  an  exact  anatomical  and  physiological 
information,  in  regard  to  the  organs  concerned  in  the  production  and 
modification  of  sound.  Its  several  parts  appear  to  have  been  evolved 
and  matured  upon  a  degree  of  thought  and  an  extent  of  experiment 
reflecting  much  credit  upon  his  sagacity  and  industry;  and  it  inspires 
a  very  strong  confidence  of  its  applicability  to  the  faults  generally  of 
speech  or  phonation.  One  of  his  pupils,  who  only  a  week  before  the 
occasion  alluded  to,  had  been  a  most  unpleasant  stammerer,  was  then 
heard  to  recite  publicly  with  great  ease  and  fluency,  with  a  full  intona- 
tion. 

W.  E.  HORNER,  M.  D. 
Professor  of  Anatomy  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Philadelphia,  Aug.  11,  1837. 

PHILADELPHIA,  Aug.  14th,  1837. 

Having  been  present  on  the  occasion  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  letter 
of  the  Professor  of  Anatomy,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  alleging  that  my 
impressions  a»«  consistent  with  those  which  my  colleague  has  therein 
expressed. 

ROBERT  HARE,  M.  D. 
Professor  of  Chemistry  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania 


From  the  United  States  Gazette. 

CONGRESS  HALL,  Philad.,  Nov.  25,  1837. 
ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D. 

Dear  Sir, — Before  leaving  your  city,  allow  me  to  express  to  you  the 
perfect  satisfaction  I  feel,  in  witnessing  the  progress  which  ray  son  hu 
made  in  Elocution  under  your  instruction. 


The  habit  of  stammering  which  commenced  with  his  early  efforts  to 
speak,  and  which  thirteen  years  (his  present  age)  seemed  only  to  con 
firm,  is  now,  with  six  weeks  instruction,  completely  eradicated. 

Though  delighted  beyond  expression  in  this  result,  I  am  not  disap* 
pointed.  From  the  moment  I  became  acquainted  with  your  method  of 
instruction,  I  did  not  doubt  its  entire  success.  Founded  on  scientific 
principles,  it  must  succeed  in  all  cases  where  there  is  no  malformation 
of  the  organs  of  speech. 

You  have  reduced  to  a  system  what  before  was  but  imperfectly  un- 
derstood, and  done  most  essential  service  to  mankind  in  elevating  a 
numerous  class  of  unfortunate  fellow-beings,  and  saved  them  from  the 
impositions  of  ignorant  and  unprincipled  empirics. 


Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

E.  PIERCE,  M.  D.,  of  Athens,  N. 


Y. 


From  the  Rev.  Thomas  B.  Bradford. 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  4,  1842. 

I  take  great  pleasure  in  recommending  Dr.  Comstock's  SYSTEM  OF 
ELOCUTION.  A  practical  acquaintance  with  the  system,  and  with  the 
instructions  of  its  author,  enables  me  to  speak  with  confidence  of  the 
high  superiority  of  this  treatise,  and  of  the  ample  qualifications  of  its 
author  as  an  instructor  in  the  art  of  speaking. 

His  course  of  instruction  is  exactly  adapted  to  the  cure  of  stammerers; 
and  my  personal  knowledge  of  the  cure  of  those  who  have  been  thus 
afflicted,  warrants  me  in  particularly  recommending  such  individuals  to 
place  themselves  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  Comstock. 

T.  B.  BRADFORD. 


From  E.  C.  Wines,  A.  M.,  late  Professor  of  Moral,  Mental, 

and  Political  Science  in  the  Central  High  School  of 

Philadelphia. 

PHILADELPHIA,  Oct.  22d,  1842. 

I  take  pleasure  in  stating  that  Dr.  A.  Comstock  taught  Elocution  in 
my  school  during  the  whole  of  last  year,  and  that  his  SYSTEM  OF  ELOCU- 
TION was  used  as  a  text-book.  I  consider  it  a  work  of  very  great  merit, 
admirably  adapted  to  the  end  for  which  it  was  designed.  The  principles 
of  the  science  are  laid  down  with  clearness  and  ability  in  the  First  Part ; 
and  the  selections  for  practice  in  the  Second  Part  are  made  with  excel- 
lent  judgment.  It  is  a  work  every  way  worthy  of  the  public  patronage. 

The  progress  of  the  pupils  in  my  school  under  Dr.  Comstock's  in- 
struction was  altogether  satisfactory.  He  fully  sustained  his  high  repu- 
tation  as  a  teacher  of  practical  elocution. 

E.  C.  WINES. 

From  S.  W.  Crawford,  A.  M.,  Principal  of  the  Academy 
connected  with  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

I  have  examined  Dr.  Comstock's  ELOCUTION,  and  agree  with  Mr. 
Wines  in  the  above  recommendation. 

&  W,  CRAWFORD 


3 

We  always  thought  Dr.  Comstock's  system  for  the  cure  of  Stammer- 
ing  a  sealed  book,  because  it  was  so  certain ;  he  has,  however,  in  the 
plenitude  of  his  benevolence,  and  for  a  small  consideration,  surrendered 
his  knowledge  and  experience  for  the  more  general  benefit  of  the  world. 
He  has  here  collected  and  widely  diffused  all  that  he  has  heretofore  pub- 
lished upon  this  subject,  and  by  well-executed  plates  illustrated  what  is 
not,  as  well  as  what  is  correct  in  gesture,  &.C.,  for  which  we  doubt  not 
the  heads  of  our  public  schools  will  be  duly  grateful,  as  affording  them 
facilities  and  suggestions  in  a  very  important  branch  of  education, 
which  they  could  not  before  command. 

The  eminent  success  of  Dr.  C.  in  his  practical  teachings,  is  the  only 
commendation  the  present  work  can  require,  and  we  understand  its 
merits  are  fully  appreciated,  if  we  are  to  judge  from  an  extensive  de- 
mand by  several  of  our  most  distinguished  Professors. 

We  may  also  remark,  that  the  work  is  enriched  by  numerous  selec- 
tions from  the  writings  of  the  most  celebrated  authors,  to  be  spoken  in 
the  elocutionary  exercises,  with  marks  indicating  the  proper  time  of 
emphasis.  Saturday  Courier,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  11,  1841. 

A  good  system  for  breaking  up  the  stiff  jaws  of  a  speaker,  and  round- 
ing the  sharp  angles  in  his  uncouth  gestures  —  two  embarrassments 
under  which  many  labour,  and  which  few  thoroughly  overcome.  We 
may  laugh  at  Dr.  Comstock's  mouths  and  gestures  as  much  as  we 
please,  but  it  is  only  by  such  mouths  and  gestures  that  one  becomes  a 
graceful  speaker.  North  American,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  11,  1841. 

Dr.  Comstock  has  devoted  many  years  sedulously  to  the  study  of 
Elocution,  not  merely  as  a  declamatory  art,  but  as  a  science  compre- 
hending all  the  phenomena  of  the  voice,  and  the  means  by  which  it  may 
be  most  successfully  cultivated  for  all  the  purposes  of  speaking.  We 
have  examined,  with  some  attention,  the  first  part  of  Dr.  Comstock's 
book,  and  find  that  in  treating  of  elementary  sounds,  he  advances  pre- 
cepts evincing  an  intelligent  analysis  of  vocal  utterance, — a  subject  very 
lightly  passed  over  in  ordinary  text-books  upon  Elocution.  The  whole 
subject  of  the  book  appears  to  have  been  digested  with  equal  knowledge 
and  care,  and  we  would  commend  to  teachers  the  adoption  of  his  sys- 
tem, as  based  upon  a  true  comprehension  of  the  powers  and  uses  of  the 
organs  of  speech,  and  the  modes  of  graceful  and  appropriate  action  in 
oratorical  exercises.  Various  plates  illustrate  the  text,  and  enable  intel- 
ligent readers  to  apprehend  the  principles  of  oral  delivery  and  gesture 
without  the  aid  of  a  special  preceptor. 

National  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  13,  1841. 

The  experience  of  Dr.  Comstock  as  a  Professor  of  Elocution,  and  his 
eminent  success  in  the  cure  of  stammering  afid  other  defects  of  speech, 
as  well  as  the  warm  commendations  of  gentlemen  in  whose  judgment 
the  utmost  reliance  may  be  placed,  justify  us  in  recommending  this 
work  to  all  who  are  desirous  of  acquiring  the  art  of  reading  or  speaking 
with  ease,  grace  and  power. 

American  Sentinel,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  13,  1841. 


We  have  found  time  to  look  with  some  care  into  Dr.  Comstook's  text 
book,  and  have  been  led  to  admire  the  plan  and  general  execution.  The 
author  has  brought  to  his  subject  a  willing  mind,  "  and  long  experience 
makes  him  sage." 

Numerous  pieces  of  great  strength,  are  illustrated  for  gesticulation, 
by  engravings  that  are  well  executed,  and  which  give  a  very  correct 
idea  to  the  reader  of  the  motions  to  be  used  in  an  open,  free  reading  cf 
the  speech. 

The  remarks  and  notation  of  the  compiler  are  excellent,  and  give,  so 
far  as  we  could  examine,  a  correct  view  of  the  pauses,  volume  of  voice, 
and  accentuation. 

We  commend  Dr.  Comstock's  volume  to  the  consideration  of  teachers 
and  of  learners.  United  States  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  14,  1841. 

We  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  a  tall,  smiling  gentleman,  who, 
when  we  were  a  white-pated  shaver  going  to  school,  used  to  come  tri- 
weekly to  the  academy,  and  standing  up  duly  before  us,  make  us  ges- 
ticulate, pronounce,  read,  and  deliver  speeches  until  we  thought  our  arms 
would  be  jerked  from  their  sockets,  or  that  our  lungs  at  least  would  give 
way.  But  we  are  living  still,  and  so  is  our  smiling  friend  Dr.  Com- 
Btock.  He  has  turned  author  too,  and  our  table  even  now  bears  witness 
to  that  fact,  in  the  presence  of  an  admirable  treatise  on  elocution  by  our 
former  teacher. 

No  man,  perhaps,  in  the  United  States  understands  so  well  how  to 
cure  stammering  as  Dr.  Comstock.  His  success  in  this  department  has 
been  almost  miraculous.  Yet  he  does  not  seek  to  hide  his  secret  "  un- 
der a  bushel,"  but,  with  true  benevolence,  has  made  it  public  in  the 
work  before  us.  The  volume  also  treats  generally  of  elocution,  gesticu- 
lation, &c.  «fec.,  and  should  be  the  study  of  every  one  desirous  of  be- 
coming an  orator,  or  even  of  reading  well.  The  work  is  illustrated  by 
numerous  figures,  displaying  every  position  to  be  assumed  in  pronoun- 
cing a  speech.  Indeed,  we  have  never  seen  a  more  complete  treatise 
of  the  kind,  and  we  cordially  recommend  it  to  parents,  teachers,  and 
others,  as  a  work  especially  deserving  support.  Next  to  the  privilege 
of  being  a  pupil  of  the  doctor  is  the  privilege  of  purchasing  his  book. 
Saturday  Evening  Post,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  18,  1841. 

The  system  of  Dr.  Comstock  is  peculiar,  and  we  cannot  speak  intel- 
ligently on  it,  because  it  cannot  be  understood  without  a  study,  which 
we  are  unable  to  give  to  it.  We  can  however  say,  that  it  appears  to  us 
to  be  founded  on  philosophical  principles,  and  to  be  exceedingly  well 
illustrated  in  parts  which  we  readily  comprehend.  Dr.  Comstock  is  not 
a  mere  theorist ;  he  is  eminently  a  practical  man,  and  in  the  application 
of  his  principles  he  has  been  very  successful  in  developing  the  powers 
of  elocution,  and  in  the  cure  of  defective  exercise  of  the  organs  of  speech 
Presbyterian,  Philadelphia,  Dec.  18,  1841. 

This  work  contains  some  new  and  plausible  principles,  and  it  is  em- 
bellished by  numerous  diagrams  and  engraved  figures,  illustrative  of 
the  subject.  We  have  never  seen  a  work  of  this  kind  published  in  a 
more  elegant  manner.  Philadelphia  Gazette,  Dec.  21,  1841 


This  is  one  of  the  most  elaborate  works  on  Elocution  ever  published 
in  our  country,  containing  the  results  of  much  study  and  attention  to 
the  subject,  and  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  philosophy  of  the 
human  voice.  Its  several  parts  are  systematically  arranged — and  its 
rules  are  illustrated  to  the  eye  by  numerous  diagrams.  It  is  well  adapt- 
ed to  meet  the  wants  of  schools  and  colleges  as  well  as  to  direct  private 
individuals,  who  would  improve  themselves  in  reading  and  speaking. 
Christian  Observer,  Philadelphia,  Jan.  7, 1842. 

The  politeness  of  the  author  has  placed  before  us  his  "  SYSTEM  OF 
ELOCUTION,"  but  from  a  hurried  glance  at  its  contents,  we  are  not  able 
to  say  as  much  for  it  as  its  merits  demand  ;  however  we  have  seen  suffi- 
cient to  be  enabled  to  recommend  it  particularly  to  the  heads  of  families 
and  schools,  who  cannot  fail  to  find  it  an  invaluable  auxiliary  in  the 
various  subjects  of  which  it  treats.  Its  divisions  comprise  Elocution, 
Vocal  Gymnastics,  Gesture,  Practical  Elocution,  being  exercises  in  arti- 
culation, pitch,  force,  time  and  gesture,  and  exercises  in  reading  and 
declamation.  The  engravings  are  exceedingly  numerous,  and  admira- 
bly adapted  to  the  purposes  for  which  they  are  designed. 

Catholic  Herald,  Philadelphia,  Jan.  20,  1842. 

Dr.  Comstock  has  been  long  and  favourably  known  in  this  city,  and 
elsewhere,  as  a  distinguished  and  successful  teacher  of  Elocution.  His 
system  views  that  important,  yet  so  sadly  neglected,  branch  of  education, 
as  both  a  science  and  an  art.  His  principles  are  founded  on  truth  and 
nature,  and  in  their  practical  application  he  is  evidently  master  of  his 
subject.  Friends,  in  whose  judgment  we  place  reliance,  speak  of  him 
as  a  teacher  in  terms  of  high  commendation.  The  work  we  have  just 
noticed  is  a  new  edition,  with  special  reference  to  gesture,  to  the  treat- 
ment of  stammering,  and  defective  articulation ;  comprising  numerous 
diagrams  and  engraved  figures,  illustrative  of  the  subject. 

Banner  of  the  Cross,  Philadelphia,  Feb.  5,  1842. 

COMSTOCK'S  SYSTEM  OF  ELOCUTION,  for  sale  by  S.  S.  &  W.  Wood.  — 
This  is  a  most  excellent  book,  containing  a  system  of  elocution,  with 
special  reference  to  gesture.  It  has  a  great  number  of  cuts,  descriptive 
of  the  plan,  and  is  admirably  calculated  for  the  learner.  It  ought  to  be 
made  a  school-book,  and  be  in  the  possession  of  every  seminary. 
New  York  Express,  March  2,  1842. 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  10,  1841 
Dr.  A.  COMSTOCK,  ) 
Philadelphia.     $ 

Dear  Sir — I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  copy  which  you  were 
«o  kind  as  to  send  me  of  your  "System  of  Elocution"     I  find  youi 
book  admirably  adapted  to  the  object  for  which  it  is  intended. 
I  am  very  respectfully,  Dear  Sir, 

your  obedient  servant, 

CHARLES  PICOT. 


6 

From  the  Rev.  Thomas  B.  Bradford. 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  4,  1842. 

I  take  great  pleasure  in  recommending  Dr.  Comstock's  SYSTEM  c* 
ELOCUTION.  A  practical  acquaintance  with  the  system,  and  with  the 
instructions  of  its  author,  enables  me  to  speak  with  confidence  of  the 
high  superiority  of  this  treatise,  and  of  the  ample  qualifications  of  its 
author  as  an  instructor  in  the  art  of  speaking. 

His  course  of  instruction  is  exactly  adapted  to  the  cure  of  stammerers 
and  my  personal  knowledge  of  the  cure  of  those  who  have  been  thus 
afflicted,  warrants  me  in  particularly  recommending  such  individuals  to 
place  themselves  under  the  tuition  of  Dr.  Comstock. 

T.  B.  BRADFORD. 

From  E.  C.  Wines,  A.M.,  late  Professor  of  Moral,  Mental, 

and  Political  Science  in  the  Central  High  School  of 

Philadelphia. 

PHILADELPHIA,  Oct.  22d,  1842. 

I  take  pleasure  in  stating  that  Dr.  A.  Comstock  taught  Elocution  in 
my  school  during  the  whole  of  last  year,  and  that  his  SYSTEM  OF  ELOCU- 
TION was  used  as  a  text-book.  I  consider  it  a  work  of  very  great  merit, 
admirably  adapted  to  the  end  for  which  it  was  designed.  The  principles 
of  the  science  are  laid  down  with  clearness  and  ability  in  the  First  Part  ; 
and  the  selections  for  practice  in  the  Second  Part  are  made  with  excel- 
lent  judgment.  It  is  a  work  every  way  worthy  of  the  public  patronage. 

The  progress  of  the  pupils  in  my  school  under  Dr.  Comstock's  in- 
struction was  altogether  satisfactory.  He  fully  sustained  his  high  repu- 
tation as  a  teacher  of  practical  elocution. 

E.  C.  WINES. 

From  S.  W.  Crawford,  A.  M.,  Principal  of  the  Academy 
connected  with  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

I  have  examined  Dr.  Comstock's  ELOCUTION,  and  agree  with  Mr. 
Wines  in  the  above  recommendation. 

S.  W.  CRAWFORD. 


From  the  Pennsylvania  Law  Journal,  Dec.  10,  1842. 

We  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  a  copy  of  this  valuable  work  ;  and 
although  a  treatise  on  elocution  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  law-book,  the 
subject  of  vocal  delivery  is  so  nearly  connected  with  the  practice  of  the 
law,  that  we  willingly  accord  to  this  volume  a  notice  in  our  Journal. 

Doctor  Comstock  has  been  long  known  to  both  the  editors  as  a  suc- 
cessful teacher  of  the  subjects  treated  in  his  book.  He  has,  perhaps, 
paid  greater  and  more  intelligent  attention  to  defects  of  articulation,  and 
to  the  cure  of  them,  than  any  other  person  in  the  United  Stales.  And 
while  certificates  from  Professor  W.  E.  Homer,  and  other  members  of 


Ihe  Faculty,  attest  that  Dr.  Cotnstock's  "  System  is  founded  upon  an 
exact  anatomical  and  physiological  information  in  regard  to  the  organs 
concerned  in  the  production  and  modification  of  sound,"  numberless 
testimonials  from  pupils  residing  in  every  part  of  the  Union,  show  that 
he  has  been  equally  successful  in  the  more  rare,  though  not  less  im- 
portant part  of  the  teacher's  office ;  we  mean,  imparting  his  science 
with  practical  effect.  A  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  Dr. 
enables  the  editors  to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  what  is  thus  attested,  and 
yet  more,  to,  bear  a  ready  testimonial  to  Dr.  Comstock's  merits  as  an 
amiable,  gentlemanly,  and  conscientious  man. 

We  have,  indeed,  often  lamented  the  gross,  and,  to  an  ear  of  any 
susceptibility,  the  distressing  inattention  to  delivery  so  generally  pre- 
valent in  the  pulpits  and  at  the  bar,  in  this  country.  How  surprising, 
in  this  day  of  almost  universal  accomplishment,  that  in  professions 
\\hose  common  object  is  persuasion  through  the  medium  of  the  voice, 
the  management  of  "  this  mighty  instrument  for  touching  the  heart  of 
man,"  should  be  so  much  disregarded !  should  be  treated  in  one  pro- 
fession as  useless,  in  the  other  as  almost  impious  ! 

How  many  a  DIVINE,  whose  sermon  was  replete  with  learning,  with 
piety,  with  all  the  refinements  of  graceful  composition,  has  sent  away  a 
ready  (perhaps  an  anxious)  hearer,  disgusted  with  the  unimpressive, 
nay,  sometimes  the  sickening  manner  in  which  the  preacher's  senti- 
ments were  delivered  !  while  a  Maffet  or  a  Kirk  is  followed  by  thou 
sands  whose  slumbering  sensibilities  are  first  awakened  to  the  majesty 
of  the  gospel  truth,  by  the  commanding  power  of  «in  impressive  voice  ! 

How  many  a  JURY  has  thought  a  speaker's  argument  without  force, 
because  his  manner  was  so;  and  have  found  a  verdict  against  law  and 
against  evidence,  because  they  had  been  charmed  into  delusion  by  the 
potent  fascination  of  some  gifted  orator! 

Who,  indeed,  that  has  listened  to  the  ennobled  voice  of  Kemble,  to 
the  chastened  recitation  of  a  Wood,  to  the  air-dropt  accents  of  Mrs. 
Seymour,  or  the  sternly  pleasing  power  of  Ellen  Tree ;  who,  that  seek- 
ing a  better  school,  may  have  hearkened  to  the  unsurpassed  discourses 
of  a  Wainwright,  rising,  now,  to  fervour  almost  apostolic,  sometimes 
sinking  into  gentleness  unearthly,  has  not  acknowledged  the  power  of 
educated  tone  to  awaken  an  eloquent  response  from  the  chords  of  human 
feeling  ?  Who  has  not  felt,  on  such  occasion,  "  that  when,  in  connection 
with  a  more  careful  culture  of  our  moral  being,  the  voice  shall  be  trained 
to  a  more  perfect  manifestation  of  its  powers,  a  charm,  hitherto  unfelt, 
will  be  lent  to  the  graceful  pleasures  of  life,  and  an  influence  of  almost 
untried  efficacy  to  its  serious  occasions !" 

Let,  then,  our  preachers  leave  the  towering  heights  of  their  divinity, 
and  strive  to  present  its  humbler  truths  in  more  graceful  garb.  Let  our 
lawyers,  not  neglecting  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law,  attend  to 
those  embellishments  of  argument  which,  with  half  our  race,  often  prove 
more  effective  than  argument  itself. 

The  Author  acknowledges  the  receipt  of  a  recommendation  from  J. 
E.  MVRDOCH,  Esq.,  the  well-known  elocutionist  of  Boston  ;  arid  he  regrets 
that  want  of  room  prevents  its  insertion  here.  Mr.  Murdoch  has  adopted 
the  work  as  a  text-book  in  his  VOCAL  AND  ATHLETIC  INSTITUTE. 


8 

From  the  Rev.  Henry  W.  Ducachet,  M.  D.,  D.  D 

PHILADELPHIA,  June  26th,  1843. 
ANDREW  COMSTOCK,  M.  D. 

Dear  Sir — I  have  very  carefully  read  the  "  SYSTEM  OF  ELOCUTION,' 
&c.  published  by  you.  Indeed,  ever  since  I  have  become  acquainted 
with  the  work,  I  have  made  it  a  book  of  reference  on  that  subject.  It 
seems  to  rne  admirably  well  adapted  to  the  purposes  for  which  it  is  de- 
signed. I  have,  indeed,  no  experience  in  the  treatment  of"  stammering,'' 
or  "defective  articulation."  But  vour  rules  for  their  cure  appear  very 
natural,  and  I  think  cannot  fail,  in  ordinary  cases,  to  be  successful.  For 
myself,  I  can  say  that  I  have  derived  from  your  work,  some  hints  that 
have  been  most  useful  to  rne  as  a  public  speaker.  I  hope  the  book  will 
be  appreciated  as  it  deserves,  and  that  you  will  go  on  to  reap  a  rich  har- 
vest of  reputation  and  profit  from  your  valuable  labours  in  that  much 
neglected,  but  very  important  art. 

Very  respectfully,  your  ob't  serv't, 

HENRY  W.  DUCACHET, 
Rector  of  St.  Stephen's  Church,  Philadelphia. 


From  G.  W.  Francis,  A.M.,  Principal  of  a  Family  Board- 
ing School,  Troy^  N.  Y. ;  and  C.  H.  Anthony,  Esq., 
Principal  of  the  Albany  Classical  Institute,  Albany, 
N.  Y. 

We  have  used  Dr.  Comstock's  SYSTEM  OP  ELOCUTION  for  some  time  in 
•ur  schools,  and  we  do  not  hesitate  to  give  it  the  preference  to  any  system 
tvith  which  we  are  acquainted. 

G.  W.  FRANCIS. 
C.  H.  ANTHONY. 
Troy,  N.  Y.,  Feb.  3d,  1844, 


From  the  Faculty  of  the  University  of  Michigan. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  MICHIGAN,  APRIL  20,  1845. 

We  have  examined  Dr.  Comstock's  System  of  Elocution  with  some 
care,  and  we  are  fully  persuaded  that  it  is  better  adapted  to  assist 
pupils  in  acquiring  a  correct,  easy  and  forcible  enunciation  than  any 
other  work  with  which  we  are  acquainted. 

JOSEPH  WHITING,  A.  M. 

Professor  of  Languages. 

A.  TEN  BROOK,  A.  M. 
Professor  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy 

GEO.  P.  WILLIAMS,  A.  M. 

Professor  of  Mathematics 

O.  C.  COMSTOCK,  A.  M.,  M.  D. 
Super  In  ten  cfanl  of  Public  Instruction,    slichigan. 


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Christmas  Blossoms 

AND  NEW  TEAR'S  WREATH  FOR  1852  ;  (A  Juvenile  Grift.) 

Elegantly  illustrated  with  six  new  ar*d  splendid  engravings  by  Sartain,  and  bound 
in  a  beautiful  style,  richly  gilt.    Price  $1.25. 


7     1  3  1  8 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


